


Child of the Sun (or, The Return of the Avatar)

by ElrondsScribe



Series: Avatar Anakin (And Friends) [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Also Padmé Says Clone Rights, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anakin Skywalker is the Chosen One, Bending (Avatar), Elemental Healing, Except Now It Is, F/F, F/M, Firebender Ahsoka Tano, Firebending Avatar Anakin Skywalker, Fix-It, In This House We Are Lovingly Critical Of The Jedi, Palpatine Can Eat Slugs, That's Not How The Force Works, The Force, Waterbender Obi-Wan Kenobi, et cetera - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:55:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 27,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26587741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElrondsScribe/pseuds/ElrondsScribe
Summary: Over the last twenty thousand years, the Force has grown stagnant and unbalanced. Now it stirs and shifts, calling to its wielders in the elements of the planets. Will the Jedi answer the call, or remain wedded to the failing ways of the Light?And what exactly has Anakin Skywalker been Chosen to do?**Goes canon-divergent during Season 3 of TCW, sometime after "ARC Troopers" and before "Heroes on Both Sides." This fic is only technically a crossover; it's much more important to be familiar with Star Wars than with Avatar to read this fic. The main elements borrowed from Avatar are the bending arts and a little history. Mostly a fix-it. Will likely undergo constant revision. Ratings and tags subject to change.**
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Barriss Offee & Luminara Unduli, Barriss Offee/Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Series: Avatar Anakin (And Friends) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2167230
Comments: 69
Kudos: 105





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So this is a highly experimental fic, and actually the first fic I've published in a while. Its basic premise is exactly what it says on the tin: the Force makes the Jedi turn into elemental benders, and Anakin Skywalker is the Avatar!
> 
> This one has stuck with me for a few months at this point, and I figure it'll grow into a big one. To that end, I'm going to start posting it, even though I'm only a few chapters ahead.
> 
> And you've seen what else is on the tin. That's right, this is going to be quite sharply critical of the Jedi as an Order (and its position in the Republic), and of its dogmas about the Light and Dark sides of the Force. So I'm putting them in a situation where they basically have to either change or be rendered obsolete. If this registers as 'Jedi hate' to you, give this one a miss! I'm not pulling my punches :)

Predictably, it began with the younglings.

Of a sudden, a number of them could no longer ward off oncoming blasts in training, or hold objects aloft. Their training masters sent them in for medical testing, but no one could identify anything wrong with them. Worse yet, the problem began to spread rapidly, to the point that those Initiates who had passed the Gathering Ritual no longer felt the bond they once had with their lightsabers.

The crechemasters did their best to be unfailingly calm around the younglings, but even Yoda could not allay their growing fears, nor yet the crechemasters’ worry. The best he could say to them was, “Not for long will this state of affairs last. Return to you, the Force will. Be anxious, do not, young ones.”

But when all the children’s tests came back completely normal in every regard, Yoda was forced to report the matter to the Council.

“The Force is  _ leaving the younglings _ ?!” Ki-Adi Mundi gaped.

Yoda shook his head. “More complicated, it is,” he clarified. “Sense them in the Force, I still can. But different, their radiance is -- shrouded. Many of their abilities -- gone, they are.”

“Have they become ill? Has some injury, perhaps, befallen them?” asked Plo Koon.

Yoda shook his head. “In perfect health, they all seem.”

“Have they --” Obi-Wan Kenobi faltered. “Are they lost to the Dark side, Master Yoda?”

Yoda closed his eyes and hummed for a moment. “Unlike the shadow, this feels,” he decided. “What ails the younglings I know not, but lost in Darkness, I think they are not.”

Plo steepled his fingers, as he was wont to do. “Shall we inform the Senate of the problem?”

Mace Windu shook his head. “Not yet,” he said. “Not until we have a better idea of what’s going on. If word got out that the Force is leaving the Jedi …” he didn’t have to say any more.

“What should we do then, Master Yoda?” asked Obi-Wan.

“To the Holocron Vault, we must go,” said Yoda. “Answers in the holocrons, there may be.”

* * *

Of course, retrieving so many memory crystals was a long, dangerous process, especially with the constant threat that more Jedi might lose access to the Force at any moment. The Council could only risk transporting and reading a few crystals at a time, and even then, they were constantly fending off attacks from bounty hunters. One attack by the ever-resourceful Cad Bane was successful, and it took Kit Fisto, Plo Koon, and Ki-Adi-Mundi all together to get the stolen memory crystal back.

It chanced that Obi-Wan Kenobi was tasked with reading and summarizing the data on the first two memory crystals (the only two that were held on Coruscant). The first contained a treatise dating from around the time that Master Yoda would have first joined the Council. Jedi Master Sigg Temlen was putting forth a case to return to the ways of those Force-users who freely mingled the Light and Dark sides of the Force, arguing that therein lay true balance and harmony.

It troubled Obi-Wan that even a hundred years after the Ruusan Reformation the Jedi Council could have held members who posed such dissent; but at any rate, such things were easy to dismiss. He made notes for his report, and moved on to the second crystal. This one concerned data from a millennium-old excavation of a long-uninhabited planet in a deserted system at the very edge of the Outer Rim; even by the time of the excavation, the planet in question had been so long uninhabited that it hadn’t even been given a name.

But the remains left behind by its people had been plentiful, and the knowledge pieced together from them was so heretical and dangerous that Obi-Wan was left in great fear.

“The people of this unnamed planet,” said Master Gerella Wayfair. “do not appear to have had a unified, formal concept of the Force -- at least, not so far as we can tell. Some persons among them were clearly born with supernatural abilities, but it appears that these abilities were limited to the ability to manipulate a single planetary element -- rock, wind, fire, or water. It is our belief that the wielding of these elements was part of a specific manifestation of the Force, one that seems to have existed without divisions between Dark and Light. The balance between the elements was kept by a succession of single persons who alone held the power to wield all the elements. The title of this Chosen One doesn’t readily translate; the closest we can come by transliteration is the word ‘Avatar.’

“Of particular interest to us was a fragment of a scroll found in a deeply buried library, the closest rendering of which reads: ‘In the day before the Avatar, the great lion-turtles, wisest among the ancients, bent not the elements but the energy within themselves and between all things.’ This ‘bending of energy’ provides the closest analog to the pure Force that we have found for this planet so far. If the favored theory among our researches is at all accurate, and it was truly the Force that powered these unknown ancients, then the Jedi may need to consider the possibility that a new era waits for us, though it may be far off in the future.”

The hologram of Master Wayfair shut off, and a deeply troubled Obi-Wan, was left alone in the dark with his musings. Mechanically, he went through the motions of putting together more notes, but his mind was racing.

Was the Force really going to leave the Jedi? If so, what of the Sith?

What would become of the galaxy?

* * *

“Most eager to hear your report we are, Master Obi-Wan,” said Yoda when the Council next convened. “Troubled you seem; what have the holocrons revealed, hm?”

“You shall see, Master Yoda,” said Obi-Wan darkly, and relayed the contents of the two combined holocrons. When it came to the second especially, he found himself unexpectedly reluctant; it was as if some part of him wished to keep the information secret.

“Most unorthodox, such information is,” said Yoda when Obi-Wan had finished.

“So what can be done?” asked Obi-Wan. “The affected Initiates have shown no recovery with regard to the Force; nearly all of them are bereft already.”

“Keep up the search, we must,” said Yoda firmly. “In the meantime, wait we will.”

“With respect, Master Yoda,” Obi-Wan protested. “You yourself have reported that the problem has spread to nearly all the younglings here in the Temple; supposing it should spread to our Padawans, or even our Knights and Masters?”

“A solution we shall find, by then,” Yoda insisted. “Till then, a closed matter, this remains.”

* * *

Obi-Wan’s fears proved well-founded.

Mere days later, Masters both on Coruscant and off-world began to report similar problems for their Padawans -- they no longer had access to the Force, even though most of them weren’t facing any significant injuries. Having no choice, the Council was forced to start recalling Padawans from the field to try to examine them. Of course the military began to notice, as there were about a thousand active Padawans, and as with the younglings, the problem spread so quickly that within a fortnight the last of the Padawans had returned to the Temple.

As planet after planet was abandoned, the Senate turned a questioning eye toward the Jedi Council; but the Council, having no satisfying answer to their questions, said as little as they could. They tried to gather memory crystals and read the old holocrons more quickly, but much of the information was either of no direct help or of such heretical persuasion that Yoda would not entertain it. Perhaps most infuriatingly, the memory crystal that held the names of all the Force-Sensitive individuals alive in the galaxy had not altered in any way, which, in conjunction with the unchanged midichlorian counts, suggested that the Force was still  _ there _ somehow.

And then, inevitably, by the scores and by the hundreds, first the Knights and then the Masters began to find themselves stripped of their powers, all the way up to Yoda himself. Faced with no other choice, they finally spoke to Chancellor Palpatine about the problem.

* * *

Dooku stood alone in his study with bowed head. “You summoned me, my Lord?”

Sidious got right to the point. “I assume you have felt it, my Apprentice?”

“I have indeed, my Lord,” said Dooku, his bruised pride tightening around him like the cloak he wore. “I had hoped that you could somehow escape the ill effects of this mysterious malady.” He did not mention it, but Ventress was powerless now too.

“Not even I am immune,” growled Sidious, the admission apparently just as unpleasant for him as it had been for Dooku. “It seems that we must take some time to discover what is the matter, and for that, this war must be halted for a while.”

“What would you have me do, my Lord?” asked Dooku.

* * *

Just when the Republic Senate and military were beginning to really panic about what to do now that all of their generals and commanders were suddenly out of commission, something truly remarkable happened: the Separatists called for a sudden temporary galactic cease-fire. Apparently, whatever was afflicting the Jedi was also afflicting Count Dooku and the ever-mysterious Darth Sidious, as Dooku announced that it was Sidious who had ordered that he make the offer of a year-long truce.

“What an … interesting offer,” said the Chancellor to Dooku’s hologram. “I hope you will not be opposed to repeating this same presentation to the Galactic Senate?”

“I had anticipated just such an appointment,” said Dooku, and the hologram switched off.

“Well, Master Yoda,” said the Chancellor, eyeing the Jedi upon the chair in front of his desk. “What think you of that?”

“Curious to hear the Senate’s decision, I am,” was all Yoda would say.

* * *

The Council was doubtful, but cautiously hopeful at the news that the Sith seemed to have hit the same mysterious snag as the Jedi.

The Senate was even more doubtful when Dooku made them his offer, but as the Chancellor pointed out, all their generals and high commanders were out of commission, and the Republic needed the truce as badly as Dooku claimed the Separatists did. While many senators were not necessarily  _ happy _ about this new state of affairs, the motion to accept the truce did manage to pass, if just barely (there had been all of three votes’ difference).

The compromise ended up being that any worlds and systems that had hitherto been considered Republic or Separatist would remain so, with increased numbers of clones and droids left to maintain each side’s holdings. Neutral systems would be left alone, while contested worlds would have to be abandoned so that troops and droids could go elsewhere. The production of Republic clones was greatly slowed, mainly to keep them from becoming a drain on food now that they were no longer dying by the thousands in battle; the Kaminoans were not happy about this, but there was nothing they could do about reduced numbers of orders.

* * *

Of course the younglings and Padawans suddenly had far less to do. They could only continue to learn such subjects and skills as didn’t absolutely require Force-sensitivity directly (except for enhanced sensing, with some of them), and even then, skills like piloting became far more challenging. And as massive as the Temple was, it had been a few years since almost  _ every single Jedi member _ had been at the Temple at the same time; the more active among them began to feel a bit claustrophobic.

In addition to crystals for the holocrons, the Councillors began to comb the Vaults of the Archives, with lower-ranking Masters and Knights assigned to read the less restricted materials, and while a great deal of literature resurfaced that had been practically forgotten, they didn’t manage to find anything that might help them understand their current situation. As with the holocrons, any information on the Force and its ways that they found was either orthodox but unhelpful, or heretical.

In a word, they were stuck.

* * *

It was the small hours of the night, and Barriss Offee was wakeful. A strange restlessness had been troubling her for the last few months, even before she’d lost her path to the Force. After Geonosis, after the  _ brain worms _ , she had managed to ignore it by writing it off as a physical remnant of trauma, but it had persisted after the nightmares had mostly slacked off. Master Luminara, to whom she had lately become quite close (perhaps a bit  _ too _ close?), suspected that something more was amiss, though she didn’t know what it might be.

Whatever it was, it had a habit of bothering her at night, to the point that she’d figured out that it was useless to try to get to sleep unless she stretched her legs a little. So she got up, slipped on her shoes, and went out into the Temple gardens where she happened to stop by one of the larger pools. The surface of the water was rippling gently, and she watched the moonlight play over it. She shut her eyes as the rhythms began to entrance her; she could almost  _ feel _ the slight push-and-pull of the water. Indeed she  _ did _ feel it, pulsing gently through her body.

_ Push and pull _ .

Barriss knew, intellectually, that the moon was only a reflector of the radiance of its nearest star, but often when she stood bathed in its light, as she had begun to do lately, she could sympathize with the old pagans who had worshipped its beauty.

_ Push and pull _ .

The thrumming in her blood became almost too much to bear. A strange compulsion came over her -- she felt as if she wanted to dance.

“Padawan Offee?”

She started from her semi-trance and spun around, eyes flying open. Master Obi-Wan Kenobi was standing a few feet away from her.

Something strange came over her. She felt strangely vulnerable and ashamed at having been “caught,” and yet something deep within her stirred, a kind of recognition she couldn’t quantify.

“Master Kenobi,” she returned politely.

Kenobi’s eyes gleamed strangely — or was that a trick of the moonlight? “Are you often wakeful at such a late hour, Padawan Offee?”

“Only lately, Master Kenobi,” she answered in the same measured tone. The strange  _ thing _ fluttered inside her again -- it was as if a long-absent friend had unexpectedly called her name. 

Kenobi’s gaze remained strange. “You seem disturbed, young one. Is everything all right?”

Barriss took a step back. “It’s nothing -- forgive me, Master Kenobi,” she said, and fled the garden. She went straight up to her room and tumbled into bed, where she tossed and turned as she tried to fight the feeling that something vaguely unseemly had happened. Eventually she fell asleep.

* * *

"Ani?” Padme’s voice broke his focus, and he looked up. Her eyebrows were arched in gentle amusement. “Is there a reason you’ve been chasing that sunbeam all evening?” she asked.

“I have?” Anakin suddenly noticed that it was true. He was much closer to the window than he had been when he’d begun. And he  _ had _ been keeping inside the sunbeam. “Lately I’ve had an easier time meditating when there’s direct sunlight,” he said with a shrug.

Padme cocked her head at him. “That’s a good thing, isn’t it? Two weeks ago, you said you couldn’t focus at all.”

“I couldn’t,” Anakin inched toward the window again, as the top of his head had drifted out of a sunbeam. “And it’s still not easy, unless I’m sitting in … direct sunlight …” he trailed off as something struck him; when he looked back at Padme, his eyes were bright and inspiration was written all over his face. “Do you have candles?” he asked. “The old-fashioned kind that have to be lit with fire?”

“A few, mostly gifts or souvenirs,” said Padme. “Why?”

“Would you be willing to sacrifice one?”

Padme raised her eyebrows as she removed her headdress. “To a good cause,” she said.

Anakin pulled a face. “Well, I don’t know about a  _ good _ cause,” he said. “It’s just -- I have an idea, and I don’t want to say quite what it is yet, just in case.”

* * *

Anakin set the lit candle on the floor in front of him. Then, he settled himself, closed his eyes, and began breathing deeply.  _ I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me, _ he chanted silently as he breathed.

A ring of fire flashed before his mind’s eye; a sudden warmth enveloped his body. A flicker of energy ran through his arm like a current; he raised his left hand, and snapped his fingers.

The Force, unmistakable and yet foreign, sparked in the air; a tiny tongue of flame that matched the candle’s flickered to life above Anakin’s palm. He gasped as he stared at it. He could feel the warmth as the small flame hovered above his hand; the song of the Force was all about him (how he had missed its presence!).

_ We are Power _ , it whispered.  _ We are Passion. We are the Force of Creation. We dwell in the Flame that does not perish. We are the spark that ignites, that gives life, that gives light _ .

He broke the trance with a gasp; the fire he’d been “holding” sputtered out (so did the candle). This was dangerous. This was not serenity, this was not calm and order. This was not the Light!

Which could only mean one thing. Anakin buried his head in his hands, and cursed. Could it be that the only path he now had to the Force - that  _ anyone _ had to the Force - was the Dark side?

And why did it have to feel so natural and  _ right _ ?


	2. Chapter 2

Obi-Wan rubbed his forehead with a sigh. The Council had collectively been able to recover and read only sixteen holocrons before their powers had left them entirely, and now the combined notes were all they had of the holocron data.

In all his life, Obi-Wan had never dreamed that he would ever lay eyes upon so much heretical material in his life; then again, he had never dreamed that the Order would be so desperate for answers that they were reading it.

He found himself returning to his own notes, particularly the notes he’d taken on the second crystal he’d been asked to read. He read back over the notes on the affinity with the elements, and he thought suddenly of his strange encounter with Barriss Offee in the garden the night before, of the pulsing of the water under the moon.

_Affinity with water_. He suddenly had to be certain.

The nearest moon was waning, but still bright, when he slipped out into the gardens again. This time he chose the largest pool, one that was big enough to almost be a lake, and went to stand by its edge. Here the waves were bigger and slower, and Obi-Wan could once again feel the rhythm tugging at him.

_Push and pull_.

On pure instinct, he spread his arms wide and began to move them back and forth. As the movements became steadier, he felt something within him break loose, and a refreshing coolness began to flow through his body. The Force was suddenly all around him, flowing through him, in and out. The surface of the water was moving before him, still in oncoming waves but now in perfect sync with his arms. And as Obi-Wan’s pace quickened, the waves rose higher and the Force within him began to churn. The churning thundered in his ears and his breath came hard. His arms swept upward, high over his head; a largish jet of water rose from the pool and came crashing down onto him, soaking him to the skin and breaking his trance.

Startled, breathless, and feeling somehow more bereft than he’d ever believed was possible, he stumbled backward and fell to his knees. He crouched there, dripping and panting, as the realization of what had just happened began to wash over him.

He was absolutely sure that what he had felt was indeed the Force -- there was no mistaking it. Yet it was also strange -- while Yoda and Qui-Gon both had spoken to him at length about feeling the flow of the Force during his training, Obi-Wan had never felt it in a manner so deeply _physical_ as he had felt just now. Frankly, it was more than a little _base_ , considering where in his body he had felt the energy flowing most freely.

A sudden fear overtook him. Any embarrassment about the _nature_ of such passions aside, well, whatever had connected him to the Force had felt dangerously passionate. It was a far cry from the calm stillness of the Light side that he knew ( _stagnation_ , whispered a treacherous voice somewhere within him), and if there was anything the Jedi knew about the Force, it was that anything that was not the Light side of the Force could only be one other thing.

Still dripping wet, he turned and hurried back inside, and nearly ran into Yoda.

“My -- my apologies, Master Yoda,” he spluttered, feeling for all the world like a guilty Initiate instead of a Master who was on the Jedi Council.

“Gone for a swim, have you, Master Obi-Wan?” asked Yoda, eyes twinkling and lips curling in amusement.

Obi-Wan did _not_ feel like explaining himself. “Something like that,” he said, and marched off.

Yoda blinked curiously after him. “Most unusual,” he said to himself.

* * *

“But Japrael’s a Separatist System!” said Anakin, his eyes on the datapad that his wife had just handed him.

“And Mina Bonteri is both a mentor and an old friend,” said Padme. “Of course I want to visit her because I haven’t seen her in years, but also … Anakin, this could be our chance to make a real peace, to put an end to the war before it begins again!”

“You won’t be safe out there,” Anakin fretted. “Especially now that the Jedi are powerless …”

“Ani,” Padme’s hand landed on his shoulder. “I’ll be safer on Onderon than I would be in many a Republic system. And it’s not as if I won’t have perfectly competent guards with me.”

Anakin put down the datapad and walked around the table to come face-to-face with Padme. “You really trust a Separatist to honor a truce?”

“I trust Mina,” said Padme simply, with that easy, open smile that hardly anyone but Anakin ever saw. She stretched herself up on tiptoe, and he relented as he leaned down to kiss her.

“Please be careful, Angel,” he murmured in her ear. “If anything happened to you --”

“I’ll be fine, Ani,” said Padme, and went to get ready.

* * *

It was late afternoon, and Ahsoka Tano, released from her classes for the day, sat on the floor in the middle of her room and tried to meditate. She gave up when a knock sounded on her door.

“Come in,” she called.

It was her Master, with a small satchel over his shoulder. “Hey, Snips,” he greeted her.

“Hi, Master,” she said. “Anything change today?”

“Sure,” said Anakin with mock cheer. “I’ve spent half a day holed up in the Archives again, reading even more useless history! Hope I’m not interrupting you.”

Ahsoka sighed. “I _can’t_ meditate anymore!” she huffed. “It just feels all _wrong_! I know Master Yoda says that meditating is a skill for people who can’t manipulate the Force too, but I need to feel the Force to center myself, and I just don’t have it anymore.”

Anakin pursed his lips, and seemed to hesitate for a moment. Then he put down the satchel, and sat down on the floor across from her. “Ahsoka,” he said in a lower voice that made her look up sharply. “I -- I wanna try something. With you. I’m not sure if it’ll work -- actually I’m not sure what it would mean even if it worked, but I have to be sure …”

Ahsoka felt her brow wrinkle in puzzlement. Anakin only rambled when he was uncertain of himself, and he was usually only uncertain of himself when he was trying to placate the Council or, well, Senator Amidala. “What is it, Master?” she asked.

Anakin opened the satchel, and what he took out made Ahsoka raise her eyebrows. “Candles?”

“Yep,” said Anakin, setting each of the two candles on either side of him and pulling out a _lighter_. Ahsoka watched with mounting excitement as he used the lighter’s tiny flame to light the tip of each candle.

“What are you doing, Master?” she asked.

“I’ll explain, I promise,” said Anakin. “For now, just trust me, okay?”

Ahsoka nodded eagerly.

“Okay. Pretend we’re doing joint meditation again,” said Anakin. “Except don’t try to reach for the Force, just breathe.”

So Ahsoka settled herself again, shut her eyes, and took a deep breath.

“Deep breaths, Ahsoka,” came Anakin’s voice, and she began to breathe more evenly.

And then she suddenly felt as if a warm current had run through her; though her eyes were closed, she could _feel_ the radiant, living presence of Anakin just in front of her. The Force thrummed in the air around them, sweet yet strange and wild; the pleasant scent of the candles filled her nose. She reached forward, hardly knowing what she did, and felt a little spark of concentrated heat above her palm.

A gasp from Anakin made her open her eyes. His eyes were wide; his left hand was outstretched, and over it danced a little tongue of fire … like the one that flickered above her own open hand.

“Can you feel it, Ahsoka?” he asked tremulously.

“I can …” Her excitement rose. “It’s the Force, I just know it! The Force has come back to us!” She sprang to her feet, barely missing the still-lit candles in her great hurry, and made a bound for the door. “We have to tell them! Master, we’ve found --”

“Ahsoka, no!” The urgency in Anakin’s voice stopped her cold. She turned around; he was on his feet too, and she had never seen him look so frightened. The fire was gone from his hands, and the candles had somehow gone out too.

“What is it, Master?” she asked, alarmed at the sudden change. The candles had been quite small, but without their light her room felt dark and cold.

“You -- you can’t tell anyone about this!” said Anakin.

“What?!” cried Ahsoka. “Why not? That was the Force, you felt it just as much as I did -- isn’t that what you were going to tell me?”

“I -- no -- well, yes, but --”

“Then why shouldn’t we tell the rest of the Jedi? This could be our way back!”

Anakin’s hands clenched. “Ahsoka, what exactly do you remember feeling just now?”

“I felt the Force!” cried Ahsoka in exasperation.

“I meant --” Anakin shook his head as if to clear it. “What _sensations_ did you feel?”

Ahsoka took a moment to think. “Well, I felt warm,” she recalled. “I felt a rush of energy. It was so … I don’t know …”

“It was passion,” Anakin’s voice became harsh. “It was unrestrained power. _Which side of the Force feeds on these things, Ahsoka?_ ”

A wave of cold fear swept over her, followed by sorrow. “But it felt so _right_ ,” she faltered.

“I know,” Anakin dragged his hands over his face. “Believe me, Snips, I know. But doesn’t that make it even worse? Because if we can only find the Force through the Dark side …”

Ahsoka sighed, eyes downcast.

Anakin’s hands landed on her shoulders. “And that’s why you can’t tell anyone yet,” he said. “I came here because I had to know, but at least for now, I need you to promise to keep this between you and me.”

She looked back up. “But Master --”

“ _Promise me, Ahsoka!_ ” His grip on her shoulders tightened.

Ahsoka nodded meekly. “I promise,” she said softly.

Anakin let her go, and turned away from her. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, bending down to shove the candles back into his satchel. Then, with a final regretful look over his shoulder, he left the room.

Ahsoka collapsed onto her bed, feeling more hollow than she ever had before, and fell asleep; she dreamed of fire and sun-stars.

* * *

“It’s a pleasure to see Lux so grown up,” said Padme. “It must have been -- oh, eight years since I last saw him.”

She was dining privately with Mina (even Lux wasn’t present), and thoroughly enjoying herself. Mina had shown her over the manor, and had re-introduced her son Lux, a tall athletic boy with Mina’s coloring and grey eyes. Less pleasant had been the revelation that Lux’s father had fallen on Aargonar near the outbreak of the war, for which Padme could be entirely honest in giving her condolences.

“I couldn’t be prouder of him, though of course I fear for him too,” sighed Mina. “He’s had a mind for politics for some years now, and has been somewhat … radicalized, so to speak, by the death of his father. He hasn’t been entirely pleased by the new truce.”

Padme indulged in a sip of her wine -- how she had missed Onderon’s white wines! “Speaking of which, if you don’t mind my asking, how popular _was_ the decision to call for the truce?” she ventured.

“The planetary representatives were mostly in favor,” said Mina. “The war has already left several Rim worlds devastated, and more than a few have gone into debt just to keep their economies afloat. Of course the corporate representatives were … more ambivalent.”

“No surprise there,” said Padme, smiling wryly. “But who suggested the truce in the first place?”

“That was Count Dooku,” Mina took the opportunity to refill Padme’s glass. “He suggested that there were extenuating circumstances that might encourage the Republic to be more conciliatory, especially if we extended the olive branch first.” Here she paused, and when she spoke again her voice was lowered. “I realize what an indelicate question this is, Padme,” she said. “But I’d like to hear it from you regardless. Is it true that the Jedi are suffering some kind of hindrance?”

Padme’s heart sank, though she remembered to lower her own voice accordingly. She laid down her fork. “Why would you have that impression?” she asked carefully.

“The Separatist Senate was given to understand that the army of the Republic has essentially been rendered inoperable because the Jedi somehow can’t use their powers,” said Mina. “That’s why so many of us were hopeful that, if we called a truce now, we might be able to return either to peaceful secession from, or more favorable negotiations with, the Republic.”

“I must ask again who gave the Separatist Senate that impression,” said Padme.

“Count Dooku told us directly,” said Mina.

Padme carefully smoothed her expression. Her own dislike of the man, and her abhorrence at his war crimes, was not likely to go over well with a senator who belonged to his confederacy. And there didn’t seem to be any point in concealing the problem, if it had come from a source so legitimate. “I’m afraid what the Count told you is entirely true,” she said quietly. “In fact, I’m not entirely certain that the Republic Senate wouldn’t have called for a cease-fire themselves if your side hadn’t made the offer first.”

* * *

The week after Anakin’s ill-fated visit was a miserable blur for Ahsoka, going through the motions of more classes, meals, sulking away her evenings in her room, and sleeping. Her Master did not visit her again, and indeed she practically never saw him around the Temple at all. She was alone with her secret and her troubling dreams.

On the eighth day, she woke up feeling so cold and wretched that she knew she had to try again. She trudged through her daily routine and disappeared back to her room as soon as her sessions were over. The sun was slanting through the window again, and she settled herself in its light and breathed deeply.

It was not long before she felt herself filled and surrounded by the warmth of the Force once more, whole and empowered and _awake_. She felt the energy prickling beneath her skin, and she opened both hands and raised them up.

A blaze sprang from each palm, fire that flickered with her breath and the beating of her heart. She basked in the warm glow for a few more moments … and then she suddenly began to wonder how she was supposed to turn it off.

“Uh …” she stared at her hands. She tried closing her hands at first, but only succeeded in burning the ends of her fingers. She winced in pain, and _then_ the fire decided to go out.

She massaged her hands, and a smile crept onto her face. Burned fingertips aside, she was happier than she’d been for the past week, and now a new conviction settled itself in her heart. She was sure that she could talk Anakin around the next time she saw him.

* * *

“It appears that, as of yet, we are no closer to finding the Force again than we were yesterday,” said Ki-Adi Mundi.

The Council was now meeting nightly to discuss the day’s findings, which so far amounted to essentially nothing. (Nobody would dare to say so aloud, especially not in Yoda’s presence, but a few Councillors were beginning to wonder if, in light of such unprecedented circumstances, orthodoxy was possible to maintain.)

“I had a thought earlier today, Master Yoda,” said Shaak Ti. “It may amount to nothing, but it appears our choices are limited.”

“Speak on, Master Shaak,” said Yoda.

“Anakin Skywalker’s midichlorian count is higher than that of any other known Force-sensitive being,” said Shaak. “That, I believe, has not changed since the calamity came upon us.”

“No one’s midichlorian counts have changed,” said Mace Windu, which was the closest he would come to saying “yes.”

“Then,” Shaak pressed. “Is it, perhaps, possible that he may yet have access to some corner of the Force beyond the reach of most other Jedi?”

There was an awkward pause, which Plo Koon took it upon himself to break. “It is indeed possible,” he rumbled, inclining his head.

“Then,” said Shaak. “I propose that we summon Skywalker to meet with us tomorrow, that he may lead us in group meditation. The combined presence of so many disciplined minds in tandem with his power may show us some way back to the Force.”

All eyes turned to Yoda, who considered this for a moment. “Our best chance, this may be,” he said at length. “A good suggestion by Master Shaak, this is. It shall be done. Master Obi-Wan, bring Skywalker to us in the morning, you shall.”

Obi-Wan Kenobi inclined his head respectfully, though his heart was sinking. This was sure to go over well. “Of course, Master Yoda,” he said.

“Then we will reconvene tomorrow,” said Mace. “May the Force be with you all.”

And the Council went their separate ways for the night.

Obi-Wan’s limbs were heavy as he shut himself up in his room and prepared for bed. He was now officially withholding information from the Council -- possibly vital information. It had been over a week now, eight Council meetings, since he had first started testing the ancient theory of finding the Force through an element, and he had not spoken up. How could he admit to the Council that he had undertaken such a scandalous, heretical act? On the other hand, what right had he to withhold a possible path to the Force in the Jedi’s time of need?

However, at least for the moment, there was hope: joint meditation with Anakin tomorrow. He couldn’t help grimacing at how awkward it would be, but if it went well, then Obi-Wan would be rid of the burden of choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so! I didn't know how else to address this, buuut if you're picking up some sexual undertones to the descriptions of wielding water (or 'waterbending'), then no, they're not your imagination.
> 
> Here's the thing: of the four elements described in Avatar, three (Earth and Water and Fire) are all associated with chakras - places where energy pools in the body. The Earth Chakra is supposed to be at the base of the spine, while the Fire Chakra is supposed to be in the stomach; the Water Chakra is somewhere between the two, but nobody says exactly where it is. Oh, and in Avatar lore, it "deals with pleasure and is blocked by guilt." So. I'm doing my best, but I just can't write the act of bending water without some hints of sexuality creeping in ... and believe me, I tried!


	3. Chapter 3

On his way into the Archives for the morning, Anakin was snagged by Obi-Wan. “The Council wants to see you,” he said.

Anakin groaned. “What did I do wrong this time?”

“For once, you’re not in any trouble,” said Obi-Wan wryly. “Actually, I imagine it’s something of a compliment. Master Yoda was insistent that you might be able to help us.”

“The Council wants  _ my _ help, sure,” said Anakin skeptically.

Five minutes later, standing before the assembled Council, his jaw dropped. “You want  _ me _ to lead all of  _ you _ in  _ joint meditation?! _ Why?”

“If chosen to bring balance to the Force, you are,” said Yoda. “Then able to guide us back to it, you may be.”

Anakin shut his mouth and kept his face neutral. If that wasn’t code for “we’re completely stumped, and you’re the Chosen One, so we figure maybe you have some kind of special powers we don’t,” he didn’t know what was. But for once, he honestly had no better ideas.

So he got himself settled, and waited for all of the Councillors to settle around him. He tried to stifle the feeling of being a child beset with disapproving adults again.

Meditation was not a skill for which Anakin had ever had much aptitude -- in fact, it was the  _ only _ Force-related skill in which he’d lagged behind developmentally -- and of course it was even more difficult for him when surrounded by people around whom he wasn’t comfortable. The fact that the Force was now so elusive didn’t help at all.

So Anakin sat there, trying not to think about where (and with whom) he was, and grasped at what remnants of the Force he could still find (apart from that dangerous place inside him where lay the embers of that mysterious fire). He found, to his surprise, that he could still “sense” things a little in the Force, though in a very vague, limited capacity. He reached out instinctively for Obi-Wan, but he crashed against his new limits and Obi-Wan’s signature blurred into the surrounding circle. Anakin was jerked back into his body with a gasp and his eyes flew open; he found to his chagrin that he had fallen backward.

“I -- I can’t,” he stuttered, scrambling to his feet. “I mean, I can’t  _ do _ anything. I can’t reach out with the Force anymore, I can barely sense your signatures -- I --”

Yoda, who just so happened to be directly facing him, poked his ankle with his stick. “Not committed enough, you were,” he said sternly. “Do it again, you will.”

To compound Anakin’s mounting shame and mortification, Obi-Wan spoke up from behind and somewhat to his left (so that’s where he was!): “Master Yoda, perhaps --”

“No!” Anakin gritted his teeth. “No, Master Yoda’s right. I need to go through with this.”

Thankfully, Obi-Wan said no more, and Anakin sat down, crossed his legs, and closed his eyes again. He swallowed down the hot lump of resentment that had come up in his throat, and started over. This time he found the boundaries of his Force-reach more quickly, and began to push against the walls of his cage. He distantly noticed that his body was becoming strangely tight and heavy, but shoved that away as he kept pushing. He also began to be aware of voices -- “Skywalker? Skywalker!” “More than enough this is, young one!” “Anakin, stop!  _ Stop! _ ” -- but they all fell away into the sea of blankness that rose up to engulf him.

* * *

Obi-Wan caught Anakin as he slumped to the floor. He looked pale, but his chest was rising and falling again and he didn’t seem to be in any immediate physical danger. Obi-Wan breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

“To the medical bay, take him,” said Yoda, and Kit helped Obi-Wan pick Anakin up and rush him down. Master Dura ordered them to lay Anakin on a spare bed, and she attached numerous monitors to him.

“Well?” demanded Obi-Wan sharply of the healer.

“His blood pressure appears to have plummeted,” said Dura, examining her readings. “But his vitals are returning to normal, and as I can’t detect anything else wrong with him, he should be able to leave as soon as he is awake.”

Obi-Wan stifled another sigh. “Very well,” he said, and reluctantly left with Kit. They found Yoda and Mace waiting for them in the hall.

“It appears Skywalker overreached his limits, Master Yoda,” said Kit. “But he should be well enough.”

“How typical,” Mace wagged his head.

Just then Ahsoka Tano came running up, her eyes wide. “Is An- Master Skywalker all right?” she asked anxiously.

“He will be, Ahsoka,” said Obi-Wan, taking pity on the girl. “But I’m sure he’ll appreciate a familiar face when he wakes up, if you’re inclined to sit with him.”

Ahsoka huffed a sigh of relief. “Thanks, Master Kenobi.”

Yoda eyed both Obi-Wan and Ahsoka with an expression that Obi-Wan couldn’t decipher.

Mace said only, “Tell him he’s off reading duty when he wakes up,” and he turned and walked off in the direction of the Archives, followed in short order by Yoda and Kit. Ahsoka looked curiously up at Obi-Wan. “What happened, Master Kenobi?” she asked. “Master Plo only told me that Anakin ‘fell suddenly ill.’”

“Nothing too serious,” said Obi-Wan reassuringly. “He overreached himself in an exercise, but he’ll be all right.”

“I’ll wait for him to wake up, then,” said Ahsoka, and disappeared inside the medbay.

After a moment’s hesitation, Obi-Wan set off, and not in the direction of the Archives. He snagged a bowl from the dining area, and tried to move inconspicuously through the hallways. He managed to only pass a gaggle of Knights along the way, and they took no notice of him.

Once he got inside his room, he took a moment to lean against the door and take a deep breath. Then, he took the bowl into the ‘fresher, filled it three quarters-full of water, and brought it back into his room. He placed the bowl in the middle of the floor, flexed his hands, and tried to remember what it had felt like when he’d moved water that other night. If he couldn’t reproduce the effect, that would mean that what had happened was a fluke and his growing suspicions were wrong. But if he could … 

Feeling more than a little silly, he pushed up his sleeves and began to rotate his arms so that his hands chased one another in a perpetual circular motion.

Something trembled under Obi-Wan’s skin. The water in the bowl jerked, and some nearly splashed over the sides. Then it leapt upwards from the bowl and rose unsteadily through the air in a roundish dripping lump. Once again, he could feel the flow of the Force return to him, not as obviously powerful as before, but just as present. He caught his breath, reveling in the moment, before noticing that the water had stopped rising at about the level of his eyes and was beginning to drift toward him.

Not wanting to be splashed again, he hesitated, and the water slipped from his ‘grasp’ and plummeted to the floor, splattering his ankles. Half a victory, then.

He went about wiping the floor, and then sat on the floor and put his head in his hands. The experiment with Anakin had failed, rather spectacularly, which meant the Council had at the moment no way of finding the Force through orthodox means. Which meant that all Obi-Wan had was the success he had found with water, and his suspicions about the old elemental theory.

The choice he’d been avoiding was now before him. He could continue to keep silent, hoping that the rest of the Council would find some way to resolve the problem, while the entirety of the Order languished in uncertainty without the Force. Or, he could reveal his illicit experiment, outing himself as a possible heretic and risking displeasure at least (and expulsion at worst) from the rest of the Council. Both choices felt like treachery.

He thought of Qui-Gon, ever the renegade, and wondered what he would have done. While the man had always gone where he believed the Force was leading him, frequently defying the Council to do so, he had never defied Jedi tradition as blatantly as Obi-Wan might be about to do. (But maybe he would have, had he lived long enough.)

Regardless, Qui-Gon was dead, and Obi-Wan was on his own.

Or was he? If he could pull one or two other Councillors aside and quietly demonstrate what he’d been up to, essentially “testing” their reaction and discretion, that might make it easier to speak up to the entire Council.

* * *

When Anakin next opened his eyes, his vision was filled with lekku, montrals, and large blue eyes. “Master!” cried Ahsoka. “You’re awake!”

Anakin blinked at her. “Snips? What are  _ you _ doing h- oh.” He had just realized that he was in a  _ medical bed _ (ugh). Which meant that the leading-the-Council-in-joint-meditation thing must have gone sideways.

Great. So much for being helpful.

He heaved a sigh, sat up, and began pulling off all the monitor cords attached to various parts of him. “How long was I out?”

Ahsoka rolled her eyes. “Good thing Master Dura said you’d be good to leave as soon as you woke up,” she grumbled. “You were out for an hour, tops. Oh, and Master Windu says you’re off reading duty for the day.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” Anakin swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. “Let’s get lunch.” And they left the medical room and set off for the dining commons.

“So what’ve you been up to this last week?” asked Anakin.

Ahsoka’s large eyes glowed; she leaned in close to Anakin and raised her right hand. A little lick of fire sprang into being above her palm. “Look!” she whispered.

A spike of terror went through Anakin, and he pulled her to the side. “Ahsoka,  _ stop that! _ ” he hissed frantically, eyes darting around to see if anyone had noticed. Thankfully, there weren’t many people milling about and none of them appeared to have seen anything.

The little flame went out with a puff, and Ahsoka lowered her hand. She was wearing  _ that look _ \-- that “you-can’t-stop me” look that Anakin knew so well. “Master, I tried again yesterday --”

“Again? Why, what were you thinking?!”

“I had to know for myself,” said Ahsoka.

“Know  _ what _ for yourself?” cried Anakin. “We already know that, whatever this is, it’s probably evil and at least very dangerous!”

Ahsoka was growing impatient. “No, Master!” she said. “I’m sure, absolutely sure, that what I felt was not evil.”

“Snips -- you can’t -- ” Anakin’s resolve wavered.

“You felt it with me!” she cried. “I know you did, I sensed it! You know what the Dark side feels like better than I do!” She glared up at him. “Tell me the truth: did it feel like Darkness do you?”

“It - it wasn’t the Light side, Ahsoka,” he said uncertainly.

“Maybe it wasn’t,” Ahsoka conceded. “But we can’t  _ find _ the Light side of the Force anymore, and if the truce is any indication, the Sith can’t find the Dark side either.” She hesitated, and bit her lip. “I’m scared too, Master,” she admitted. “But if this --” she snapped a momentary little puff of fire into being that made Anakin jerk his head back. “-- is our way back to the Force, do we really have another choice?”

Anakin was silent. He couldn’t deny a thing she’d said -- he was  _ suffering _ without the Force, and there was an ever-present cold ache in his lungs that he couldn’t soothe. Was everyone else in the Temple feeling the same way?

And what was supposed to happen to the Jedi Order if they never got the Force back?

“All right,” he said at length. “Let’s try again after lunch, huh?”

* * *

A gentle tap landed on Plo Koon’s shoulder as he was on his way out of the Council’s dining hall. “What is it, Master Obi-Wan?” he asked, turning.

“If you don’t mind, I need a moment of your time, Master Plo,” said Obi-Wan.

Curious, Plo followed Obi-Wan all the way up to his room. Once they arrived, Obi-Wan picked up his datapad and turned toward Plo.

“I know that I ask much in requesting that you reserve your judgment for the moment,” he said. “The truth is, I find myself in something of an awkward position.”

More perplexed by the moment, Plo inclined his head. “You have my full attention,” he said.

Obi-Wan turned the datapad toward him. “I believe you remember this report?” he asked.

It was the report on one of the Coruscant memory crystals, the ancient excavation and the theory proposed by Gerella Wayfair.

“It is familiar, yes,” said Plo.

Then Obi-Wan went to the side table, where sat a bowl mostly filled with water. Then he took a deep breath, raised his hands, and began to move them in an unfamiliar, swirling motion, his body swaying ever so slightly. The water in the bowl shivered a little, and then rose jerkily into the air in a rough sphere.

Plo froze in shock.

Obi-Wan dropped his arms (the water fell onto the table with a splash) and would not look directly at Plo. “It began with an accidental discovery two nights ago,” he said.

Plo found his voice. “And you feel the presence of the Force when you … do this?”

“As I feel it at no other time,” said Obi-Wan. “Indeed, that’s my trouble: I remember what the Light side of the Force was, when we still had it. And what I feel when I reach for the water … it is not the Light, Master Plo.”

And now Plo understood. “You fear that the Force can now be found only through this and other similar elemental arts, and that they may bear the taint of darkness.”

“I am  _ certain _ of it,” sighed Obi-Wan. “Master Wayfair gave us to understand that, when such arts were practiced before, they were ‘beyond the distinction between Dark and Light.’ And I can tell you that I did not feel the purity of the Light as I knew it before.”

Plo was silent. The ethereal purity of the Light had become cold to him during the last few years of his tenure -- a secret, treacherous voice within him had whispered of refuge in Shadows. That part of his soul that threatened always to  _ attach _ had become harder and harder to separate from his connection to the Force, to the point that a part of him had been relieved when the Force had slipped away from him. But if Obi-Wan was right and the Force was still there … 

“I had hoped,” Obi-Wan went on. “That Master Shaak was right about Anakin, and that through him we could return to the Force the right way. But I’m no longer sure that’s possible.”

And now Plo also understood why Obi-Wan had revealed this to him. “I see your plight,” he said. “Indeed, the future of the Order -- and the Galaxy -- hangs in the balance. I understand your hesitation, Master Obi-Wan, but if you are at all certain of what you have uncovered, I urge you to reveal your mind to the Council. This decision we must make as a collective.”

Obi-Wan bowed his head, and was silent.

* * *

Anakin and Ahsoka stood side by side in the middle of her room. There were no candles this time, but the air thrummed with power.

“Steady breaths, Master,” said Ahsoka reassuringly.

Anakin quirked a brow at her. “When did  _ you _ get to be the expert?”

“Just do it!”

“Okay!” Anakin settled into stillness; it was almost too easy for his breathing to fall into perfect rhythm with Ahsoka’s. That wonderful Force-warmth swept through his body again, and that mysterious brightness flickered from beside him.

Energy began to surge through Anakin’s body, growing hotter with each breath. Without thinking he clenched his right hand, and brought it up on an inhale. Then, with a puff, his fist and Ahsoka’s punched into the air before them in perfect unison -- two powerful gusts of fire shot forward into the air, burning bright for an instant before fading away.

Wonder and delight came over Anakin, and a soft “wow!” escaped him. He turned to Ahsoka, who was beaming at him -- in fact, he could swear that she was somehow  _ brighter _ , and he wondered if he looked the same.

“Well?” inquired Ahsoka, still grinning.

“I keep forgetting how much I miss that feeling,” said Anakin, smiling a little himself.

“I know, right?” Ahsoka nodded eagerly. “So what do you say -- should we tell everybody about this or not?”

Anakin sighed, and knew his expression had darkened. “We-e-ell,” he hedged. “Look, you were right: this  _ is _ the Force we’re dealing with -- it has to be -- and I don’t think it’s evil, or not inherently. But here’s the thing:  _ it’s still not orthodox _ . You know how the doctrine of the Light works, and whatever this is, it doesn’t fit the right way.”

“Not orthodox?” Ahsoka’s face fell. “But -- but we can’t even reach the Force the right way anymore!”

“I  _ know _ , Snips,” said Anakin. “I’m just saying, I don’t know how many people we should tell about it, at least right now.”

“But people are  _ suffering _ without the Force,” said Ahsoka. “I know I was -- hasn’t it affected you? And they’re scared -- I know at least some of the other Padawans at least don’t think they’ll ever get their powers back. Don’t they deserve to have hope?”

“Of course they do! Just --” He paused, and thought for a moment. “Look, be careful who you tell, all right? I don’t think the Jedi Council is going to budge on orthodoxy any time soon, and until then I don’t want to draw their attention if I can help it.”

Ahsoka looked much happier. “I’ll be discreet, Master,” she promised.

“Discreet, sure,” said Anakin with a roll of his eyes as he turned to leave, but his mood had lightened, and when Ahsoka swatted at him with an indignant “Hey!” he only laughed as he dodged her.

* * *

By the time Obi-Wan had seated himself for the Council’s nightly meeting, he had made up his mind. He tried not to look too hard over at Plo, but he could guess that the senior Master was not likely to let him get away with silence.

“A failure, the experiment with Skywalker today was,” said Yoda unceremoniously once the session had begun. “Where we began, we now are.”

“If nothing else,” said Mace wryly. “At least we know that Skywalker isn’t faring any better than any other Jedi at the moment.”

Obi-Wan very carefully did  _ not _ say that that particular consideration was only a  _ comfort _ if the primary point of concern was being bested by Anakin rather than trying to find a solution for the problem that plagued the entire Order. But, because his thoughts now had almost total privacy (how very novel!), he was free to think this while keeping his face neutral.

“Indeed we are none the wiser than yesterday,” said Ki-Adi. “And what is more, our young (and not a few of our Knights) are beginning to feel the weight of the uncertainty that plagues us all. I have heard certain of my own former Padawans question whether the Jedi can even continue to exist if the Force never returns.”

Plo moved his head ever so slightly in Obi-Wan’s direction, and Obi-Wan realized that if he did not speak, Plo would speak for him.

He cleared his throat. “As to that, I believe there may be another way, though I have reason to doubt its viability.”

“Speak on, Master Obi-Wan,” commanded Yoda.

Obi-Wan soldiered on, despite his reservations. “I trust that all of you recall the report I made of the two Coruscant holocron crystals?”

“The treatise of Master Temlen in favor of the ancient Gray Jedi, and Master Wayfair’s theory regarding the evidence from the unnamed planet,” said Ki-Adi promptly.

Obi-Wan nodded. “It is the data from the second of those crystals with which I am concerned,” he said. “You will recall that the unnamed planet had, to Wayfair’s knowledge, no concept of ‘the Force’ as we know it, but persons whose powers and abilities found affinity with one of the four essential planetary elements.”

“Beyond the distinction between Light and Dark, such elemental arts were believed to be,” said Yoda sharply. “As such, heretical they were. Why bring this up, Master Obi-Wan, hm?”

And now for the moment of truth. “Because, Master Yoda,” said Obi-Wan heavily. “it seems that I have accidentally discovered an elemental affinity within myself in a manner consistent with the theory put forward by Wayfair.”

The Council room broke out in a frantic rustle of whisperings; Yoda immediately rapped with his staff to quiet everyone. “Explain yourself, Master Obi-Wan!” he said in a voice of stone.

Once more, Obi-Wan felt as if he were on trial. “Over the last few days I have found, mostly by happenstance, that I can move small quantities of water through something that very strongly resembles the power of the Force.”

“Then one question only needs answering,” said Yoda. “When experimenting you were, the Light side of the Force, did you feel?”

Obi-Wan braced himself. “No, Master Yoda,” he said truthfully.

This time there was complete silence -- but a silence during Obi-Wan felt as if an unspeakable burden had been placed upon the entire Council.

Then Master Mace seemed to rouse himself. “This is very troubling,” he said, frowning. “It suggests that the Force truly has left the Jedi, if it is only accessible through the Dark side now.”

“Masters, all,” an unexpected voice spoke up. “Have we forgotten that the Sith are allegedly just as hindered as we are? If it is true that the Force now favors only the Dark side, then how does its power elude Dooku and Sidious?”

Obi-Wan was not the only one to look around in open surprise. Despite his warm and cheerful demeanor, Kit Fisto was typically very quiet in meetings. As a Councillor he generally spoke when spoken to and did as he was asked.

“We don’t know that for a fact, Master Fisto,” said Mace sternly. “And, more to the point, we know that these new Force-manifestations bear the taint of darkness. How long until the Sith make similar discoveries and rise again?”

Yoda held up one finger. “Kept secret from the Order, this matter must remain,” he said. “No further Darkness, will we invite. And no more experiments, there will be.” His eye lingered on Obi-Wan as the Council parted ways for the night.

When Obi-Wan went to bed, he tossed and turned for nearly an hour. The itch beneath his skin and the stuck feeling in his gut that had come to plague him over the last few weeks was milder tonight, but it somehow bothered him more (was it because he knew now that he could not reach for the water again?). When he did finally fall asleep, he dreamed of the shoreless seas of Kamino, and the airwhales that dove merrily beneath the waves.


	4. Chapter 4

“Barriss?”

The older Padawan looked up, and smiled politely. “Good afternoon, Ahsoka,” she said.

“Do you have a moment?” asked Ahsoka. She seemed nervous.

Barriss closed the page of herbs she’d been memorizing and laid down her datapad. “Of course,” she said, rising to her feet. She quite liked Ahsoka, even as she was unsettled by so much about the younger Padawan. “What can I do for you?”

Ahsoka drew her into a quiet corner by a big window through which the afternoon sunlight was slanting. “How’ve you been feeling?” she asked with genuine concern.

What Barriss chose to say was, “As well as can be expected, all things considered. I’ve mostly kept myself occupied with medical training. You?”

A smile tugged at Ahsoka’s lips. “We’ll come back to that,” she said. “Barriss, if I said I think I’ve found a way to reconnect with the Force, what would you do?”

Barriss’ eyes widened with astonishment. “Reconnect with the Force?” she gasped. “How --”

"I’m still not entirely sure about it,” said Ahsoka hastily. “I just -- I wanted to try it with you first.”

“Oh,” that dangerous, wild  _ thing _ rose up inside Barriss again, overcoming even her fear of doing something that felt so much like rule-breaking. “Well, what should I do, then?”

Ahsoka grinned. “Sit still and close your eyes as if you were meditating,” she said.

Barriss did so.

“Now breathe,” said Ahsoka, and Barriss began to take deep, slow breaths.

“What do you feel, Barriss?”

“Stillness, and serenity,” said Barriss truthfully -- she’d had success with meditating, even without the Force, and that unrestful voice had gone quiet again for the moment.

“Nothing -- else?” A note of uncertainty had entered Ahsoka’s voice.

Barriss opened her eyes. “I don’t think so, Ahsoka. Why? What were you hoping for?”

Ahsoka turned her face into the sunlight for a moment, clearly relishing the glow. Then she raised her right hand and snapped her fingers, and Barriss started back as a bright little spurt of  _ fire _ lit up the air. It lasted for only a moment, but the warmth and the slight scent of the flame-gas remained.

“You didn’t feel anything like that?” asked Ahsoka. “The Force didn’t come back to you?”

Barriss could only shake her head, her mind reeling.

Ahsoka’s face fell, and her shoulders slumped. “But I was so sure,” she said half to herself. “Where did I go wrong?”

Barriss recovered herself enough to lean forward and lightly lay a hand on Ahsoka’s arm. “It’s all right, Ahsoka,” she said reassuringly. What she really felt was more complex -- a mixture of appropriate relief that she could not find the Force through such strange methods, and treacherous disappointment that she was still without the Force after all.

“Thanks, Barriss,” said Ahsoka, but it was clear her mood was entirely ruined. Barriss slipped away to let her be alone, and to get back to the herbs.

(Or was it to try and distract herself from the growing pain that the brief flash of hope had left behind?)

* * *

Anakin managed to catch Obi-Wan on his way out of the Archives for the day. “Master, I need to talk to you,” he insisted.

“What is it, Anakin?” asked Obi-Wan with an air of patience.

“It’s kind of a big deal,” said Anakin, and pulled Obi-Wan into a currently-empty study.

“Well?” asked Obi-Wan, arching an eyebrow.

Anakin pursed his lips. Of all the Jedi, apart from Ahsoka, he only really had an actual relationship with Obi-Wan, and yet he was also nervous about what he was about to do, principally because he was sure the older man would run straight to the Council with it unless Anakin played his cards very carefully.

“So joint meditation yesterday was a failure, right?” he began.

Obi-Wan grimaced. “Anakin, I wish you’d been more careful,” he said. “Are you feeling better?”

“I’m fine,” said Anakin impatiently (of course Obi-Wan  _ would _ harp on it being his fault). “And thanks. But Obi-Wan, I think I’ve found another way back to the Force.”

Obi-Wan eyed him suspiciously. “I’m listening,” he said.

This was not encouraging, but Anakin was in too deep now to turn back. He turned a little so that he was no longer facing Obi-Wan directly, took a deep breath, closed his left hand as he breathed in, and punched forward as he breathed out. The little rush of power he’d come to expect shot through his arm and burst into flame beyond it, and he couldn’t help the grin of triumph that stole over his face.

But when he turned back to Obi-Wan, he was alarmed to find that the elder Jedi was pale and wide-eyed with horror. “How did you come by that?” he almost whispered.

“It started with an accident -- is something wrong?” asked Anakin with growing anxiety.

“ _ Tell me how this happened, Anakin! _ ”

The younger Jedi started at the sudden force of Obi-Wan’s voice. “All right, all right!” he conceded, and he briefly explained about how he’d gradually found sunlight and fire as his routes back to the Force, sans the fact that he had brought Ahsoka in on his discoveries, and ended with, “But Master, what the  _ kriff _ is the matter with you?!”

Obi-Wan’s hands fastened around Anakin’s wrists in a death grip. “Anakin, you  _ must _ promise me that you will  _ never _ attempt to use the Force this way again, do you understand?”

“ _ What _ ?” Anakin couldn’t believe his ears, even as some part of him was experiencing a weirdly reversed deja vu.

“And don’t let me hear you talking about it to anyone else, either!” said Obi-Wan. “In fact, your discovery must die here in this room, between us, and never be mentioned again!”

Anakin pulled his wrists out of his old Master’s hands. “I can’t accept that!” His voice began to rise. “Haven’t we been trying every way we know to get back to the Force? And now that I’ve found something that actually  _ does _ work --”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan looked deeply mournful. “Don’t ask me why --”

“Well, I’m asking!” shouted Anakin in exasperation. “The entire Jedi Order  _ can’t use the Force _ . There’s no precedent for this! We’re about to lose  _ everything _ \-- peace in the galaxy, twenty thousand years of history -- and we could keep it all if we just thought about the Force a little differently!”

Obi-Wan hesitated and looked down, and from the thoughtful expression that flashed across his face, Anakin knew he’d gotten through. But then Obi-Wan’s eyes met Anakin’s again, heavy and resolute. “Anakin,” he said. “It is in the name of the Order that I repeat my request that you end your experiments and never speak of them again.”

Anakin’s heart sank. “ _ Why _ , Master?”

“Your word, Anakin!”

Completely deflated, Anakin nodded. “I promise,” he said, and left the study.

* * *

“Pensive you look, Master Obi-Wan,” said Yoda. “Inform the Council of the trouble, hm?”

The Council had just finished making their daily reports (still nothing helpful on the Force!), and Obi-Wan, who had lapsed into silence, rubbed his brow and sighed. “Master Yoda,” he said unhappily. “it appears that Anakin has stumbled upon an elemental path to the Force.”

Mace gave him a sharp look. “I assume he had no assistance in this endeavor?”

Obi-Wan decided not to rise to the bait. “Indeed not -- it seems he has made his discovery entirely on his own, with no knowledge of the old theory at all. He came to me with his newfound ability only this afternoon.”

“And what did you tell him?” asked Mace.

“Only that he absolutely must not use his powers again, or conduct any further experiments, or speak of the matter ever again,” said Obi-Wan, keeping his voice level with an effort. Really, what more could they ask of him? It wasn’t his fault that Anakin was perhaps the least obedient or orthodox Jedi in the history of the Order. Or perhaps it was, but Force knew he’d done his karking best to tame the lad.

“And yet, ill at ease you look,” Yoda prompted.

Obi-Wan  _ did not _ sigh, but only just barely. “I am concerned, Master Yoda,” he said. “This new development shows that a seeker need know nothing of the old theory to find the Force through the elements. Among our ten thousand younglings, Padawans, Knights, and Masters, I find it hard to believe that only Anakin has happened to find the Force this way. Certainly, given the bond he shares with his Padawan, she at least is likely to have heard something of Anakin’s discoveries.”

He did not mention her aloud, but he thought of Luminara’s Padawan Barriss again, of that strange, almost drunken look on her face as she gazed into the waters of the garden pool when the nearest moon had been full. It was no great stretch to imagine her reaching for the Force through the water, as he had done himself.

“Then,” said Shaak. “It appears that we have a larger problem than we first anticipated. If our Order has already been exposed to these elemental arts, what shall we do?”

“One thing to do, there is,” said Yoda. “Cure the infection before it spreads further, we must.”

“We’ll make an announcement to formalize a ban, then?” asked Mace.

But Yoda shook his head. “Only burden the innocent with guilty knowledge, this would,” he said. “Better it is to warn and monitor the known trespassers.”

Mace looked doubtful. “Master Yoda, with respect, isn’t it better for the Order to have preemptive knowledge of which behaviors to look out for?”

Obi-Wan blinked. He could quite literally count on one hand the number of occasions during his Council tenure when Yoda and Mace weren’t on the same wavelength, but it was happening now.

And Yoda held firm. “Monitor the entire Jedi Order, this Council of twelve cannot,” he said simply. “Keep in check a handful of individuals -- this the Council can do. And, while Master Obi-Wan’s precautions I take to heart, possible it is that the problem is contained to young Skywalker.”

“Skywalker is certainly enough,” said Ki-Adi with a wry smile, and most of the Council chuckled.

“Then, Master Kenobi,” said Mace, turning back to Obi-Wan. “It falls principally to you to keep an eye on young Skywalker.”

Obi-Wan groaned inwardly. Of course it had to be him. “Understood, Master Windu,” he said.

“And tell him of the theory, or of the Council’s order, you must not,” added Yoda. “For him to get ideas, we do not need.”

Obi-Wan’s heart sank further. How was he supposed to keep Anakin in check without -- well, he’d just have to figure it out. “Yes, Master Yoda,” he said obediently, and there was an end to the matter for the night.

* * *

“How was Onderon?” asked Anakin after kissing Padme in greeting.

“Onderon was fine,” Padme seemed a little distracted. “It was good to see Mina and her son again, and their people seem to be doing fairly well.”

“But?” Anakin prompted.

Padme sighed. “Anakin, I’m worried,” she said. “The Separatist Senate knows that the Jedi can’t use their powers anymore.”

“What?!” cried Anakin in alarm. “How did they --? Oh, don’t tell me -- Count Dooku!”

“I’m afraid so,” said Padme with a sigh. “I’m guessing that  _ wasn’t _ supposed to be public knowledge.”

“We thought the only people who knew were the Chancellor and Vice Chancellor!” Anakin shoved his flesh hand through his hair in consternation. “The Republic Senate wasn’t even supposed to know that!”

Padme bit her lip. “Anakin, I’ve never pretended to be knowledgeable about the Force, but is there any sign that the Jedi might be able to get back what you’ve lost?”

Down came Anakin’s hands. “I wish it was that simple,” he groaned.

“What do you mean?” asked Padme sharply.

“You remember you let me use a couple of your candles before you left?”

“Yes, why?”

Somehow this reveal wasn’t getting easier with practice. Anakin gestured toward the sofa. “You might want to sit down for this,” he said.

This did not seem to comfort her at all, but she sat. Anakin took a breath in, and snapped his fingers as he breathed out. The spike of energy burst from his thumb into a little tongue of fire that burned steadily in the air above his hand.

Padme’s eyes widened. “How in the world?” she breathed, reaching for the fire-holding hand.

“This happened while you were away,” said Anakin softly.

“Is it -- is it the Force?” asked Padme hesitantly.

“It feels like it,” Anakin turned his hand over and the fire went out. “In fact, I’m sure it is. And I don’t think it’s a fluke either -- Ahsoka can do it too, I’ve tried it with her. And I still can’t reach the Force any other way -- nobody can.”

“Then what’s complicated about it?”

Anakin gritted his teeth. “I told Obi-Wan about it earlier today,” he said. “And he told me not only to stop using the Force like this, but to never mention it to anyone again.”

“Did he say why?” asked Padme curiously.

“No, but I can guess why,” said Anakin grimly, and recounted his own initial reaction to his and Ahsoka’s success with fire. “I’m sure Obi-Wan probably thinks the same way I did.”

Padme hesitated again. “I know you said the Sith can’t reach the Force either,” she said slowly. “But is there anything to your initial belief that these new powers are linked to the Dark side?”

Anakin could only be honest. “Well, there isn’t  _ nothing _ ,” he admitted. “I mean, I’ve sensed the Dark side before, and whatever this is, it’s not that exactly … but it isn’t the Light, so …” he trailed off helplessly.

“Well, I see why it’s complicated now,” said Padme, rising from the sofa and coming forward. “But for my part, I think these new powers agree with you.”

“What do you mean?” Anakin absently rubbed her arms as she reached him.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed a difference in yourself,” said Padme. “But you look better than you did before I left. Your eyes are brighter and your color is better.”

Anakin cocked his head. “Actually, I have noticed a difference,” he mused. “I’ve been feeling better.”

“Then I’m not worried,” smiled Padme as she slipped her arms around his waist, and Anakin promptly forgot that there was anything to worry about as he leaned down for another kiss.

* * *

Once again, a wakeful Barriss was pacing in the gardens at night. She breathed a sigh of relief as the night breeze kissed her cheek; she looked up and saw that the second of Coruscant’s moons was full this time. She paused by one of the pools, and sat down at its edge to slip her hand under the surface and drag her fingers back and forth through the water.

_ Push and pull. _

The restlessness under her skin began to quiet, and something cool began to sweep through her. A sweet, achingly familiar presence -- the Force, how she’d missed it! -- washed over her, calling to her; she stood up, both arms now sweeping in high arcs over her head as if she were dancing. She saw two great waves rise up in opposing directions and crash forward into one another, only to re-form and rise again, and then surge forward into one another again.

Giddy with pleasure, she spun on her heel, and a stream of water leapt out of the pool to surround her. She leapt forward, her arms sweeping outward, and the circle of water became a wave that bore her up and carried her forward. She sailed some three feet into the air before the wave she was riding began to fall; it brought her gently down to the ground beyond the pool’s edge, and the moment her feet touched the ground the water slipped back.

Barriss stood still, panting and a little wet, as her mind began to process what had just happened. She had just moved water, there was no mistaking it -- she had just been  _ on top of moving water _ without an implement. But most of all, the Force had been with her -- there was nothing that felt like the presence of the Force, except the Force.

Weeks of restless unease, of practicing the old exercises in vain -- had she now finally found the Force again?

Deciding she had to be sure, she turned back to the pool of water, which was mostly still again, and swept her right hand up in a circle. This time, a little globe of water rose into the air with a little pulse in the Force. Quickly, Barriss brought out her other hand as if to catch the globe, and it floated up to spin between her hands. Uncertain of what to do here, she paused, and the water crashed down onto her already soaked feet.

She only barely bit back an exclamation of joy. She had found her way back to the Force.

* * *

In a secret temple on Moraband, the two former Sith Lords raised their hands. Fire burst from their open palms.

“A good beginning, my Apprentice,” said Sidious. “But we must proceed with caution.”

“Indeed,” Tyranus intoned. “What should our next steps be, my Lord?”

“We must seek further knowledge of the ways of fire,” said Sidious pensively. “Otherwise we may need to extend our truce.”

“Most undesirable,” Tyranus’s lip curled in disgust. “Is there a particular task that you would have me complete?”

Sidious held up a hand. “Well, there is one thing, Apprentice: a little test to which I would have you put your servant Ventress.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, I'd love to know how the descriptions of 'what wielding/bending the elements feels like' are shaping up. Do they feel gimmicky and tacked-on?


	5. Chapter 5

Ahsoka had only just waked and dressed herself when someone knocked lightly at her door. She frowned. Who could it be, this early?

“Come in!” she said.

It was Barriss Offee, with a glow in her eyes that Ahsoka had never seen before. She was holding a bowl rather carefully in one hand. “Ahsoka,” she said rather breathlessly as she entered. “I want you to see this.”

She put the bowl down on Ahsoka’s table, took a step back, and began to swirl her hands side by side. Ahsoka didn’t even have time to be amused before the water in the bowl suddenly  _ moved _ \-- it turned itself into a ball, and rose from the bowl to settle between Barriss’ moving hands, where it hovered and spun. Ahsoka’s jaw dropped, and she stared from Barriss’ hands to the moving water. Then Barris made a thrusting motion with one hand, and the water flew forward and splashed against the wall. She grimaced a little with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I haven’t quite learned how to -” she began.

“What was that?!” cried Ahsoka in amazement.

Barriss’ eyes were still shining. “The Force, Ahsoka,” she said eagerly. “I know it -- I can feel it!”

“But how?” Ahsoka had to know.

“I’m not sure,” Barriss admitted. “But I  _ am _ sure I’ve found the Force again!”

“Let me try!” Tingling with excitement, Ahsoka picked up the bowl and raced into the ‘fresher, half filling it with water, and raced back out into her room. She held out her arms, and began to move her hands in alternating circles like Barris had.

But nothing happened. She couldn’t feel the Force anywhere around her, and the water didn’t move. “I -- I don’t understand,” she faltered, her arms falling in disappointment.

But Barriss looked thoughtful. “Can you still create fire with the Force?” she asked.

Ahsoka inhaled, and punched the air with the exhale. Out came a burst of fire.

“How strange!” said Barriss. “I can reach the Force by moving water, but it seems as if you can’t. And you can reach the Force by kindling fire, but I can’t. What can it mean?”

“I don’t know,” said Ahsoka, now thoroughly puzzled. After Barriss had been unable to summon fire yesterday afternoon, Ahsoka’s faith in her and her Master’s discovery had been shaken. Now she didn’t know what to think.

* * *

“What is it, Padawan?” asked Master Luminara. Barriss had sought her out after leaving Ahsoka, feeling hopeful that maybe her Master could help make sense of what was happening. She’d found her in the gardens.

She recounted to Luminara how the Force had come back to her last night in the rush of the water under the moon, taking a moment to demonstrate at a nearby fountain, and then told how Ahsoka seemed to have found a  _ different _ way back to the Force. “What do you think, Master?” she asked.

“I’m not sure, frankly,” said Master Luminara pensively, her eyes on Barriss’s hands. “To my knowledge, no Jedi has ever expressed the Force either through fire or water; but to my knowledge the Jedi have never known a time when all of them seemed to be without the Force, either. Can any others reach the Force in similar ways?”

“I don’t know,” said Barriss. “I only know of myself and Ahsoka. Do you think we’re some kind of anomaly, or might there be a pattern?”

“I’m afraid I can’t say, Barriss,” said Luminara. “But take heart: anomaly or not, if you’ve managed to find a way back to the Force, then there’s hope for us yet.”

* * *

During a midday break from reading duty, Anakin was on his way out to the gardens when he passed a creche of younglings. One of them, a pretty little Rodian, appeared to be the center of attention: the others were all nudging her and saying “Do it again, Ganodi, do it again!”

Ganodi giggled, and jumped high into the air -- so high, in fact, that she managed to touch the very high ceiling on the  _ very _ high ceiling. Instead of falling, she floated gently down to the floor.

If the Force was working like it was supposed to, there would have been nothing remarkable about a powerful or precocious youngling accomplishing such a thing. But now Anakin couldn’t help but stare. What  _ was _ that?

“Ganodi, is it?” he called.

The younglings all spun around at the sound of his voice, and their eyes widened. Ganodi’s little jaw swung, and the others were all abuzz with excitement and fascination and envy. Anakin had begun to approach them, but in an instant all of them ran up to him, surrounding him and saying “Look, it’s Master Skywalker!” “Hi, Master Skywalker!”

Anakin knelt down in front of Ganodi. “How long have you been able to jump that high, little one?” he asked gently.

“Since last week,” said the little girl, glowing with the attention. “And I can run really fast too, like  _ this! _ ” And she shot off to the side almost quicker than sight -- an unreasonably strong gust of air sent Anakin and the other children sprawling -- and he looked up to see Ganodi  _ skimming up the wall and upside down across the ceiling _ . Anakin could only lie there and gape as she came down the other wall and rocketed back into her friends -- she quite literally crashed into them and knocked them over again. She ignored their grumblings and protests as she came to a stop before Anakin again.

“How did you do that?” asked Anakin in unfeigned amazement, beginning to pull himself up.

Ganodi grinned again. “I can go really light on my toes,” she said.

“And this wasn’t something you could do before?” Anakin confirmed as he got his knees under him again.

Ganodi shook her head. “It’s weird -- it feels like having the Force again, but it doesn’t!”

“That’s amazing, Ganodi,” said Anakin, his mind racing. It was so different from the way that he and Ahsoka had found the Force -- and yet, it wasn’t as if a child could run so fast or so light under ordinary circumstances -- what could it mean?

“Initiates!” called their crechemaster, appearing at the end of the hallway. “Come on, it’s time to start flight simulation training! Stop bothering Master Skywalker.”

“Bye, Master Skywalker!” they shouted, waving at him as they raced away to their session. Anakin watched them go, feeling apprehensive but unable to pinpoint why.

“Master?” called Ahsoka from behind him. He turned, relieved.

“Evening, my Padawan,” he grinned at her. “Got a minute?”

“Sure!” said Ahsoka, so he took her up to his room. “What’s up?” she asked once they’d arrived.

“Well, for one, I talked to Obi-Wan, and --” Anakin grimaced. “-- let’s just say it didn’t go well.”

Ahsoka’s eyebrow-markings arched quizzically. “How badly did it go, exactly?”

“He … might’ve freaked out and told me never to use my powers or talk about them again,” Anakin admitted.

“So, basically the way you reacted the first time,” said Ahsoka, to which Anakin spluttered in protest. “That’s okay, you just have to win him over like I did!”

“Maybe,” Anakin decided it was time to change the subject. “Ahsoka, I saw something strange today,” and he relayed the strange abilities that little Ganodi had demonstrated -- well, shown off, really, but who cared?

“ _ Up the wall and across the ceiling? _ ” Ahsoka gaped.

“I know, Snips!” Anakin threw up his hands. “She was sure it was the Force, and I don’t know what to think.”

“Great, now I’m even more confused!” cried Ahsoka.

“Whaddya mean?”

So Ahsoka told him about her encounters with Barriss, and about the weird disparity between Barriss’s new abilities and her own.

This time it was Anakin’s turn to gape. “Huh,” he said.

“Yeah.” Ahsoka nodded. “So I don’t know what to think anymore either. I was so sure about, y’know --” she flicked two of her fingers to light a small fire, and flicked it out again. “ -- but apparently it doesn’t work for everyone.”

But something was beginning to dawn on Anakin. “Yeah,” he said slowly. “Fire didn’t work for Barriss, but  _ something _ did. Ahsoka, what do fire and water have in common?”

Ahsoka seemed caught off guard. “I can’t think of anything they have in common, Master,” she began. “In the old sciences, they were opposite elements --”

“That’s just it!” Anakin broke in eagerly. “They’re both elements!”

Ahsoka’s eyes widened. “Ohhh! So maybe it’s that we can find the Force  _ through an element _ , whether it’s fire  _ or _ water!”

“More than that, I think,” Anakin was thinking about little Ganodi again. “Ahsoka, didn’t the old scientists say there were  _ four _ basic elements?” he prompted, knowing she’d find the answer.

Her eyes widened. “Rock, water, wind, and fire!” she cried. “Is that what’s going on?”

Anakin smiled, his previous excitement returning. “We can’t know for sure until it happens to more people,” he said. “But that’s my new theory -- we can still find the Force, we just have to use one of the elements now.”

Ahsoka beamed back at him. “If that’s true, I’m glad I get to share an element with you, Master!”

* * *

“Yes, my Master?” asked Asajj after the obligatory bow to Dooku’s hologram.

“Come to me on Serenno immediately,” said Dooku. “I have a test for you.”

Asajj fought to keep her fear from showing on her face or in her voice. “I shall be there, Master,” she said. But after the hologram switched off, she couldn’t keep from twisting at her fingers. Whatever test Dooku had for her, there was no way she would be able to pass it now that she was without the Force.

* * *

“What I don’t understand,” said Senator Saam. “is why we keep funnelling millions of credits a  _ month _ into the Jedi Order when they’re no longer doing the single job for which they were installed in the Republic?”

“You dare!” cried Orn Free Taa indignantly. “The Jedi Order has kept peace in the name of the Republic for over twenty thousand years!”

Padme rubbed her temples. It was her first Senate meeting since she’d returned to Coruscant, and apparently the status of the Jedi within the Republic was today’s discussion.

“A task which they have not been performing lately,” snapped Saam. “Is it not so, Chancellor?”

Chancellor Palpatine regarded the Ishi Tib senator with arched eyebrows. “I do not understand the question, Senator,” he said with a note of warning in his voice.

But Saam was having none of it. “I hope your Excellency does not think we failed to notice that our generals and commanders were leaving the field by the dozens, and had practically left the galaxy to the Separatists,  _ before _ the truce was offered. Did your Excellency believe we would not be told that the Jedi are no longer capable of accessing those mystical powers of theirs?”

Padme felt the blood drain from her face. How had it leaked? Who had told him? 

“What an outrageous claim!” cried Bail Organa. “And to lay such an accusation upon the Chancellor himself? I wonder at you, Saam!”

“Have you any proof of either of your claims?” asked Senator Aang.

For answer, Saam connected his monitor to the large holo-projector, and a replica of the inside of the Chancellor’s office appeared. Palpatine was behind his desk, as ever, and Yoda sat in the middle chair across from him. Padme could only watch in horror as Yoda told Palpatine of the Order’s misfortune.

The Senate erupted the instant the hologram cut off, but Palpatine rapped for order. When there was quiet, the Chancellor finally spoke again.

“It seems there is no denying it,” he said heavily. “Unfortunately, this is indeed the reason for our total retreat from the war front.”

Padme happened to catch a glimpse of Senator Burtoni, representative of Kamino, and caught a strangely smug expression on her face. Before she had time to wonder what that could be about, Saam was speaking again.

“Now that Senator Aang has, I hope, been satisfied as to the veracity of my claims,” he said. “I repeat my initial question: if the Jedi cannot fulfill the single role for which their order is enshrined within our Republic, then why do we still grant them so much privilege?”

“I must echo Senator Saam’s sentiments,” Senator Rab spoke up. “We have a standing military, with very capable non-Jedi captains and admirals and other officers. If the Jedi are no longer capable of acting as our peacekeepers or our generals, then why not award these positions to people who are?”

* * *

“I don’t believe it!” cried Anakin, furious. “How could they betray us like this?”

“The Chancellor wouldn’t hear of it,” Padme assured him. “And only a few senators actually seemed to approve of the idea. But I’m afraid that could change in time, especially given how much the military seems to resent the war being put on hold ‘for the Jedi.’”

“But that’s nonsense!” spluttered Anakin. “It was the Separatists who made the truce!”

“That’s exactly what Mothma said,” Padme sighed. “To which Saam replied by asking if we would have accepted the truce had the Jedi not already retreated from the field.”

“Why, those -- gah!” Anakin gave a huff of rage and clenched his fists.

A ball of fire shot from each hand, and a small  _ stream _ of fire came from his mouth. Both Anakin and Padme started back, Padme with a cry of “Anakin!”

“I -- I’m so sorry, Angel,” gasped Anakin, sudden terror overtaking him. “I didn’t know --”

“I figured,” Padme quipped, recovering her equilibrium with admirable swiftness. “Maybe I should have guessed that fire-powers might include fire- _ breathing _ .”

“It’s dangerous!” cried Anakin, twisting nervously at his fingers. “I could have set something on fire -- I could have hurt you!”

“Well, you did neither,” said Padme, coming to lay a hand on his shoulder. “As far as I’m concerned, that’s a win.”

Her touch calmed him, and he lowered his hands. “I guess I just don’t understand what they want,” he sighed. “Anybody’d think these people want to go back to war!”

“That’s not as uncommon a sentiment as you might think,” said Padme unhappily. “For any number of reasons, some Republic Senators are galled by our, ah, ‘negotiating with animals,’ especially about the fact that we’re beholden to them now.”

Anakin had always thought of ‘the Separatists’ as an enemy monolith and been happy to fight them, but he was a little unsettled at the thought of Republic Senators resenting the Jedi for being the apparent reason for a truce. He ran his hand through his hair again. “We have to tell them,” he said. “They don’t know about the leak, we’ve got to warn them!”

“ _ I _ am going to warn them,” Padme reminded him. “Now, in fact -- I just wanted to tell you first.”

“Right, got it,” said Anakin, and went around behind the projector so that he wouldn’t be visible.

Padme re-settled her headdress, and made the call to the Council. Master Yoda’s holographic form popped up in front of her. “Unexpected is this call, Senator Amidala,” he said. “Urgent, I expect your news is?”

“I’m afraid so, Master Yoda,” said Padme unhappily. “I’m afraid your situation has been leaked to the Senate.”

“Explain yourself, Senator,” said Yoda sharply.

“Footage of Master Yoda’s meeting with the Chancellor about the Jedi was broadcasted to the Republic Senate,” said Padme.

The other Councillors were not visible in the hologram, but the gasps and exclamations were still audible. Yoda rapped with his staff. “Peace, Masters!” he reproved them. “More to say, you have, Senator?”

“Yes, Master Yoda,” said Padme. “It is known to much of the Republic Senate that I have a friend and former mentor in a senator of the Confederacy, and through her I have learned that Count Dooku somehow knows about the Jedi’s current problem too, and has relayed the news to the other Separatists.”

“Most distressing this is,” said Yoda gravely. “Yet still, not all you have said.”

“You’re right, of course,” sighed Padme. “Today I was privy to a Senate meeting during which a vocal minority voiced strong resentment toward the Jedi and their prominence within the Republic, even questioning if the official military needs the Jedi’s services. That is all of my news, Master Yoda.”

Yoda leaned forward. “Thank you for this information, the Council does, Senator Amidala,” he said. “Unfortunately, discuss this matter the Council must, in private. Tomorrow, contact you, we will. A good night, we bid you.” And the hologram switched off.

* * *

There was a moment of silence after Amidala’s blue form disappeared from the holotable, during which Obi-Wan firmly resisted the urge to massage the back of his aching head.

It was Mace Windu who spoke first. “So,” he said grimly. “We are betrayed.”

Obi-Wan privately wasn’t sure the situation was a full betrayal yet, but it was bad enough to not be worth arguing about.

“Masters,” Plo leaned forward in his chair. “I think we may need to consider the possibility, however slight, that the Jedi Order as we now know it may be in peril.”

“Preposterous!” cried Ki-Adi. “The Order has stood for over ten thousand years --”

“And these are unprecedented times, Master Ki-Adi,” said Plo. “Has there ever been a time when every Jedi in the galaxy has simply lost the Force?”

Obi-Wan pinched the bridge of his nose, an insignificant point of relief in the persistent itch under his skin. The fact that the Jedi had not actually lost the Force did not bear mentioning, but he could not put it from his mind.

“The timing certainly couldn’t be worse,” said Mace grimly. “The people have already begun to lose faith in the Jedi, and somehow neither the war nor the truce has helped our popularity. If this resentment is making its way into the Senate, our security within the Republic may indeed be compromised.”

“Allow the Order to fall, we cannot,” said Yoda firmly. “Establish our place in the galaxy again, we must.”

“With respect, Master Yoda,” broke in Saesee Tiin. “How can we save the Order when we are literally powerless before a resentful Senate?”

“Remain true to the Force, we must,” said Yoda. “Wait for its Light to return to us, we will.”

Obi-Wan could remain silent no longer. “Master Yoda, we have no guarantee that the Force will return to us  _ at all! _ ” he said earnestly. “The truce only stands for some ten more months, and could be broken at any moment; popular lack of faith in us will be confirmed when the news reaches them. How long can we wait?”

“To answer weakened faith with displays of power, the Jedi way is not,” asked Yoda sharply. “Have us reject that which makes us Jedi, you would, hm?”

Obi-Wan’s mind was in turmoil. How could Master Yoda even consider sitting and waiting in the hopes of things going back to normal while the galaxy imploded around them? On the other hand, he was right -- the Jedi could not abandon their principles, or they would be Jedi no longer. He remembered wryly that Anakin had used rhetoric not unlike his own to defend his accidental discoveries with fire. But of course, all he said aloud was, “Of course not, Master Yoda. Forgive my outburst.”

Yoda seemed satisfied. “Then no more to discuss, we have,” he said. “Speak with the Chancellor tomorrow, I will. His favor above all, we must keep, though our other alliances within the Senate, we must also secure. Adjourned, this meeting now is.”

Obi-Wan left the room and walked to his quarters in a conflicted haze. He hoped dearly that the Council could find more allies in the Senate than the handful that they personally knew, and he hoped that Anakin would be willing and able to leverage his friendship with the Chancellor. 

Because otherwise, it looked like another unpleasant dilemma was before him. On the one hand, he could abide by the Council’s decision to sit back and wait for the Force to “return” (which Obi-Wan was almost certain wouldn’t happen, especially given that the Force had not  _ really _ left in the first place), essentially standing by to let the Order fall. On the other hand, he could try to learn the forbidden elemental arts, which he was beginning to think were now the only way to reach the Force, and thus be responsible for fracturing the Order and possibly risking contamination from the Dark side.

(Why wouldn’t that karking itch  _ just go away? _ )


	6. Chapter 6

By morning, the holonet was  _ buzzing _ with the news. Chancellor Palpatine raised his eyebrows as he scanned headline after headline.

“It seems I have somewhat underestimated the magnitude of the public response to the leak,” he remarked to his Vice Chair as he closed the news projection. “My greatest hopes have been surpassed.”

“Should we be concerned that the reaction is growing too quickly?” asked Amedda.

“Not at all, not at all,” Palpatine smiled. “And I do believe we have a visitor! Good morning, Master Yoda.”

The diminutive Jedi Master inclined his head as he was let into the office. “Chancellor,” he said as he approached the desk. “Seen the news, the Council has.”

“Ah,” Palpatine took up a regretful air. “Such an unfortunate development.”

“Most unfortunate indeed,” Yoda inclined his head. “Very curious as to the source of this leak, the Council is.”

Palpatine sighed, assuming even more sorrow. “I regret to say that the leak originated from a member of our very Senate,” he said heavily. “Nevertheless, Master Yoda, I hope you understand that the Jedi will keep the full support of the Senate so long as I remain Chancellor.”

“For your favor, many thanks the Jedi owe you, Chancellor,” Yoda inclined his head again.

* * *

“Here I am, Master,” said Ventress, rising from her knees.

“Excellent,” Dooku steepled his fingers. “Come and stand before my desk.” He was seated behind the desk in his elegant study, and a tall ornate candle sat on each side of his head.

Ventress came forward and up the steps, and watched as he raised his hand in a fist and flicked his first two fingers. A small flame burst from the tips of his fingers, startling a small gasp from her. Dooku turned, and set his flaming fingertips to the candle on his right. When the wick caught fire, he withdrew his hand.

“Now, Ventress,” he said. “You will light the other candle.”

“M-Master?” faltered Ventress, cold fear prickling through her chest.

“Stand still, steady your breath, and focus your energy,” said Dooku.

Ventress swallowed hard, and tried to obey. But she couldn’t find her center without the Force, and she couldn’t quell her fear. It was by sheer force of will that she slowed her breathing, and fixed her eyes on the unlit candle.

It felt like she had been standing there for hours before her Master’s voice startled her again. “You disappoint me, my Apprentice,” he said coldly, rising from his chair. “It is evident to me that you have no affinity for my element.”

Ventress stood frozen, unable to speak.

“It is unfortunate,” continued Dooku. “But this failure marks the end of your status as my Apprentice. You are hereby banished.”

Finally Ventress found her voice. “Have mercy, my Master!” she cried, falling to her knees.

“Get up,” barked Dooku. “And get out! I have shown you mercy by allowing you to live; do not test my patience!”

Ventress fled Dooku’s study, fled his castle, and sped away from Serennor.

* * *

Anakin and Ahsoka lingered around the gymnasium, trying to look casual as they waited until a sector had fully cleared out. Then they slipped inside, and closed off the sector.

“I hope you’re right about this,” said Anakin as they laid down their lightsabers and Anakin slipped out of his over-robe.

Ahsoka smirked at him. “Aren’t I usually, Master?” she asked as she followed Anakin out to the middle of the floor.

Anakin rolled his eyes. “Okay, Snips,” he said, and then as he got into position, “Let’s see how well I remember this.”

Ahsoka cocked her head at him.

“It’s been longer for me than for you, okay?” Anakin protested.

“I didn’t say anything,” said Ahsoka. “Ready when you are, by the way.”

Side by side, they began to move through one of the old saberless katas, one Ahsoka had picked for its emphasis on positive energy. They went slowly at first, mostly because Ahsoka let Anakin set the pace, but as the memory of the motions returned to him, he began picking up speed. As they reached full speed, each of them felt the familiar energy of their Force-fire connect with the aggression of the kata, and at almost the same instant, fire burst from their hands in powerful, sweeping arcs.

A whoop of exhilaration broke from Ahsoka as each new forward stroke of their arms (and occasionally a high-kicking leg) brought a new burst of fire, power surging through their limbs. Far too soon the kata was finished, and Anakin and Ahsoka ended in the customary bow. Both were sweating, and panting a little.

“It worked!” cried Ahsoka jubilantly. “I told you, Master!”

Anakin grinned at her. “Well done, Snips!” he said. “That was fantastic -- how do you feel?”

“I’m great!” beamed Ahsoka. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt so -- so  _ powerful _ .”

Anakin clapped her on the shoulder. “Let’s make a habit of it, huh?” he suggested.

* * *

Luminara Unduli was in doubt.

At the second mission on Geonosis, Skywalker had proved himself too close, too attached to his Padawan, willing to take unseemly measures to guarantee her safety. But Luminara somehow could not find it within herself to condemn him or his Padawan as she ought. When Barriss had appeared under the rubble of the collapsed factory, Luminara had entertained for a moment the treacherous wish that Barriss could have had the same reassurance in her Master’s persistence that Ahsoka had.

Then came Luminara’s own capture and near-possession by the Queen, and then the possession of Barriss. She knew quite well there was no need for her to do so, but she’d insisted on accompanying Skywalker to Ord Cestus to wait for Barriss to wake up. She had overheard Skywalker give Ahsoka all the wrong reassurances, and once again, found she did not have the will to reprove him. When Barriss bolted awake, eyes wild with the memory of her trauma, Luminara found herself leaning over her Padawan to quiet her.

In the months following that mission, Luminara had found it harder to keep a proper distance from her Padawan, to instruct her properly at all. The quietude of the Code began to feel oppressive, its certainty deceitful, its calm suffocating. And so, as she drifted away from orthodoxy, she took Barriss with her. And when Barriss dared to whisper her doubts and fears, Luminara was there.

And then that strange affliction came upon Barriss, leaving her without the Force, bringing herself and Luminara back to the Temple. Less than a fortnight later, Luminara lost her own connection to the Force, leaving her entirely without the guidance of the Order’s doctrines.

In her spare hours, she found herself wandering outside the Temple proper to wander the grounds or even the roof; Coruscant was warm and sunny, and the gentle winds helped to clear her head, lift her spirits, and dispel the feeling of being caged. For Luminara was constantly troubled by the sensation of being trapped, sometimes to the point that it was difficult to breathe, especially indoors. Something similar seemed to be troubling Barriss -- a restlessness, sometimes physical, that made sleep difficult, and made her  _ temperamental _ in ways that she never had been during her apprenticeship before.

And then came the day that Barriss revealed her strange newfound ability to move water, seemingly through the power of the Force, and as if that wasn’t confounding enough, her friend Ahsoka seemed to have found some similar power with fire. Intrigued, Luminara spent her assigned reading period the next day on researching the elements, but all she found at first were accounts of early galactic industrialization.

But when she came upon accounts of Dathomirian magic, and discovered the magics that were based in the classical elements, she began to pay attention. The most detail she could find was in a few paragraphs of a single document, as the Dathomirian orders had long since moved on to more sophisticated methods, but there was just enough to spark Luminara’s curiosity.

It seemed that magic drawn from the bones of the planets -- from rock and soil and the roots of plants -- was magic of stillness and strength. Meanwhile, magic drawn from liquids, especially water, was magic in flux and flow, waxing and waning in time with sea tides and lunar phases. Magic drawn from fire was powerful and consuming, while magic drawn from the wind was light and swift, often allowing the witches who practiced it to fly.

Luminara got up from her reading station, and went out into the gardens to stretch her legs and think. At the moment, she had no idea if she had just spent an afternoon on a wild goose chase; she didn’t know if the idea that was forming in her mind had any merit. And if she was right, she was on dangerous ground.

A small bird flew by Luminara’s head. Its plumage was a bright, beautiful blue, and it perched itself in a small tree where it sat for a moment before flying away again; distracted, Luminara started after it.

A breeze ruffled her headdress, and her body suddenly felt lighter. Before she knew it, she was running toward the Temple proper, her feet barely seeming to barely touch the ground; she looked up and saw the overhang of the balcony of the level above, and jumped. A gentle wind caught her billowing robe and sleeves, and she was borne up through the air and forward over the railing, landing lightly on the balcony.

For a moment, she felt freer in her own body than she had ever felt before. And then Saesee Tiin grabbed her by the arm and pulled her inside.

“Master Luminara,” he hissed. “How came you by the knowledge to do that?”

Startled and indignant, Luminara drew herself up. “Master Tiin, this is hardly appropriate --”

“Answer me, Luminara!” barked the Councillor.

Luminara purposefully banished her anger. “There was no knowledge,” she said truthfully. “I acted purely on instinct.”

But saying it aloud reminded her how far afield she was from proper Jedi conduct in general. She had been  _ running _ \-- how undignified! She had not acted on training, on balance and refinement, but on instinct. And  _ she did not care _ . All that mattered to her was how light and unburdened she had felt for those precious few moments.

Tiin let go of her arm. “I might have known,” he said half to himself, and then aloud: “Were you seen by anyone?”

“Not to my knowledge, Master Tiin,” said Luminara truthfully.

“A small victory,” Tiin looked grim. “Master Luminara, I must request that you immediately cease any illegitimate activities related to the Force, and never attempt or even mention them again, publicly or privately.”

“Master Tiin --!” began Luminara.

“By order of the Council!”

Startled again, Luminara stared at him. The Council  _ knew _ about things like this? More significantly, the Council knew  _ and was preemptively forbidding them _ ?

“Very well, Master Tiin,” she said quietly, feeling the walls of her cage close in on her again.

* * *

“That is troubling,” Barriss frowned. “Did he tell you why the Council doesn’t want this pursued?”

“No, he didn’t,” said Luminara grimly. “I’m certain the Council has a reason for forbidding it, and a reason for not doing so openly, and yet …”

“And yet,” sighed Barriss. The way that the Council operated in general had begun to make her uneasy over the last few months, even back when she’d been in the field. She’d recently dared to confide in her Master about her doubts, and Luminara had refused to reprove her for doubting.

Barriss knew quite well that only the wisest and most enlightened Jedi were on the Council, including Master Yoda himself … so what was with the secrecy?

* * *

Once again, Anakin was pulled aside on his way into the Archives for the morning. But this time, he was surprised to see that it was --

“Master Luminara?” he asked.

“May we speak somewhere private?” she asked.

“Uh, sure,” Anakin peered around for a currently unoccupied reading room, and slipped into one with her. Luminara shut the door behind them.

“What can I do for you?” asked Anakin. He hadn’t had much direct interaction with Luminara since that ill-fated Geonosis mission; she had seemed such a model Jedi Master in a way that even Obi-Wan wasn’t that Anakin couldn’t imagine what she wanted with  _ him _ .

Now she seemed uncertain of herself. “Skywalker, this matter concerns at the very least myself, my Padawan Barriss, and your Padawan Ahsoka. For that reason, I suspect you already have some knowledge of this, but either way I must ask for your discretion.”

Barriss and Ahsoka. Anakin was pretty sure he had an idea where this was going. “My lips are sealed, Master,” he said.

“Thank you,” Luminara paused, seeming to search for words. Then she told him how Barriss had demonstrated a new ability to touch the Force again with water, and how Ahsoka had reportedly done the same with fire. She summarized the reading on Dathomirian magic, and more hesitantly told of her own strange near-flight just the day before, and of Tiin’s order. “I am still not entirely sure if my hypothesis is justified,” she finished. “So I came to you, both because I thought you were likely to know something and because, well --”

“Because I’m the renegade,” Anakin couldn’t help smirking, basking in the  _ vindication _ . Then he sobered. “But you’re right, Master Luminara. Ahsoka and I have been discovering our fire-powers together, and she did tell me something similar about Barriss. If your hypothesis is about finding the Force through elemental affinity, that occurred to me too. But, like you, I’ve been barred by the Council from even talking about it.”

Luminara raised her eyebrows. “I can’t imagine that’s stopped you.”

Anakin smirked. “What can I say?” he asked. “But I haven’t really spoken about it to anyone but Ahsoka since. Like I said, you can count on both my discretion and hers.”

* * *

A small, sleek starship came to rest at the edge of the clearing before the Dathomirian Temple, and a slim cloaked figure climbed out of it. As she began to approach the Temple, the watchful eyes of many guardians followed her. Before the stranger was halfway across, half a dozen Nightsisters with holo-bows and long knives leapt from the trees and shadows to surround her.

“State your name and business, stranger!” cried one.

The stranger lowered her head. “I am not a stranger,” she said.

“Indeed, she is no stranger,” said Mother Talzin, materializing from nowhere. “She is one of us.”

And Asajj Ventress bowed before the tall woman. “Mother,” she greeted the witch. “I am in need of your help.”

Ignoring for the moment the amazed stares and gasps from the other Nightsisters, Mother Talzin took Asajj by the arm and led her inside the Temple.

“Now tell me, child,” said Mother Talzin as she drew Asajj into the smaller courtyard. “What do you need from me?”

“I am lost, mother,” said Asajj. “My powers are gone, and my Master has betrayed me.”

Mother Talzin smiled. “If you are not yet willing to pledge yourself as a Sister, then there may yet be another path for you -- one that I believe you will enjoy.”

She made a throwing motion with her hand, and a pile of nearby dry kindling went up in flames. Asajj could not help but shiver a little, remembering her previous failure with fire.

“It is my strong belief,” continued Mother Talzin. “that your powers in the Force have been redirected into one of the four elements from which we draw our magics -- earth, fire, water, or air. Reach out with your senses, and see if your element does not call to you.”

Wondering, Asajj stood still, and closed her eyes. She stretched out her hands, resisting again the urge to reach directly for the Force, and waited.

In the stillness, she became aware of the movement of her own blood in her veins, and the constant bubbling of the water in the fountain began to sing in her ears. She gave a sudden spin, the Force sweeping through her body, and opened her eyes. A low wall of ice surrounded her and Mother Talzin, running in a spiral and sloping upward toward the end. She couldn’t help but stare at it in amazement.

“Well done, my child!” cheered Mother Talzin. “You have found your element!”

“Then what shall I do next, Mother?” asked Asajj.

Mother Talzin touched a fingertip to the ice, and it melted away into the grass. “You must discover for yourself the art of wielding water as a weapon,” she said. “I fear I cannot instruct you in this, for such arts are new to the galaxy.”

“Well then,” said Asajj, beginning to smile with genuine anticipation. “It’s just as well that I have time to spare.”

* * *

“Well, I don’t know how directly useful it is,” said Ahsoka. “But I had an idea to try practicing a couple of our old katas -- you know, the saberless ones we learned as Initiates -- to see if they’d help channel my element.”

She’d come to visit Barriss after another flash of inspiration, and brought a bowl of water as a peace offering.

“Oh!” Barriss brightened. “I hadn’t ever thought of that. Does it work?”

“Like a dream!” grinned Ahsoka. “I chose the positive katas, because I had the feeling they’d fit best with fire. But your element’s different from mine, so I’m not sure what kind of kata would work for you.”

“Hm,” Barriss pondered this. “When I’ve moved water before, I’ve always had to create or tap into a rhythm, a give-and-take. There’s only two forms I remember that were like that.”

“Oh, the dancing forms,” Ahsoka grimaced. “They never made any sense -- they weren’t positive or negative or even neutral.”

“Well, perhaps they’ll make sense now,” said Barriss. She straightened, and Ahsoka made room for her, hoping this would work.

Barriss slipped easily into the motions, her willowy form bending and swaying. The water came smoothly and easily to her hands, rolling and sweeping through the air, sparkling in the late afternoon sunlight. When she came to the end of the form, Barriss caught the water in a globe between her hands, and managed to push most of it back into the bowl.

Ahsoka cheered and applauded, and Barriss flushed.

* * *

“Three complaints today, and each from different creches,” said Mace.

In the week since Yoda had ordered the Council to covertly ban pursuits of elemental affinities, crechemaster after crechemaster had complained about children exhibiting oddities. Some would punch or  _ breathe _ fire when they were upset; others would dent the concrete outside or shake the floors; others were suddenly too fast and lightfooted to pin down, and still others would turn their drinks to ice or spill water from fountains. Of course there had been accounts of similar behavior from older Jedi, such as Tiin’s report on Luminara Unduli, but not as many.

“Spreading, the problem is,” remarked Master Yoda.

“Which is why, with your permission, Master Yoda, I think we need to make the ban public,” Mace insisted. “Otherwise, we’ll be trying to watch half the Order, and the half that includes Skywalker at that.”

“Hm,” Yoda leaned on his stick. “Quite right you are, Master Windu. Make the announcement tomorrow morning, we must.”

* * *

It fell to Mace to make the announcement, which he did the next morning from the communications center. Around the Temple, everyone paused what they were doing to listen.

“Members of the Jedi Order,” came his voice over the speakers. “It has come to our attention that a number of you are experiencing a connection to something that resembles the Force, and have been finding that connection through water, air, or fire. We regret to inform you that this is a fraudulent and dangerous imitation, and for your own safety we request that you refrain from any elemental activities across all Temple grounds and properties.”

* * *

“Is it true that we’ve been deceived, Master?” asked Barriss anxiously. “Have I made a mistake?”

Luminara was quiet for a moment. “What does your heart tell you?” she asked at length.

“I’m not sure,” said Barriss slowly. “I -- I’m not used to listening to my own heart. But I  _ think _ I’ve been doing the right thing.”

Luminara smiled, and reached forward to clasp her shoulder. “Then be discreet, but not ashamed,” she said. “As you know, I can’t directly help you with your element, but if there’s anything you need from me, you have but to ask.”

* * *

“Master? Master!”

Obi-Wan blinked up into the anxious face of his former Padawan. Oddly enough, he seemed to be on the floor. “Anakin, please don’t shout,” he rasped wearily. His head was  _ pounding _ .

“That’s  _ it _ ,” Anakin huffed. “I’m taking you down to the medbay. Master Vos, give me a hand!”

Obi-Wan would have groaned if he could. Of course it was just his luck that Quinlan would happen to be passing by. A moment later, his old crechemate’s long dreadlocks filled his vision.

“You look like hell, Kenobi,” he said, his voice ringing through Obi-Wan’s head even worse than Anakin’s had. “Let’s get him outta here, kid.”

Despite Obi-Wan’s protests, they hauled him down to the medbay and sat him on a bed. Master Dura came over to ask what had happened, and before Obi-Wan could stop him, Anakin said, “He passed out in the middle of the hall -- and he hasn’t been looking too good for a while.”

Obi-Wan gave Anakin a withering look, but Dura got straight to business. “Master Kenobi, do you recall where you were just before you passed out?”

Obi-Wan sighed, giving into the urge to massage the back of his aching head. “Yes, Master Dura, I was on my way from my study to the Archives for the morning,” he said, and couldn’t help noticing how bad his voice actually sounded.

Dura gave a brief nod. “And have you been experiencing any unpleasant symptoms lately?” she asked, taking a datapad from a passing droid.

Aware of the warning glares on either side of him, Obi-Wan sighed again. “Over the last two weeks or so, I’ve had escalating headaches, muscle cramps, insomnia, chronic thirst, a constant crawling sensation under my skin, and --” he flushed with embarrassment. “I’ve been urinating less.”

Dura’s fingers were flying over her datapad. “In comparison to what’s normal for you, how much water would you say you have drunk recently?”

“That’s just it,” Obi-Wan huffed. “I’ve been driven by thirst to drink more water than usual.”

Dura looked up, and eyed Anakin and Quinlan. “Thank you, Masters Skywalker and Vos, for bringing him down here,” she said. “But I think from here on I’d like a moment of privacy with Master Kenobi.”

“So we’re dismissed,” said Vos bluntly.

“Yes,” said Dura. “Now shoo.”

And they left, though Anakin was quite reluctant and kept looking over his shoulder as he went. Dura immediately turned to Obi-Wan.

“Master Kenobi,” she said, and Obi-Wan was not sure he liked how grave she looked. “Under ordinary circumstances, most of your symptoms sound like simple dehydration, if not for the fact that you’ve been hydrating more,” she said. “However, I’ve had an upswing of unique cases lately, especially since the order came down a week ago, and I’m noticing some patterns. So, there are three more unusual questions I’d like you to answer.”

“Very well,” said Obi-Wan. “Ask away.”

“Firstly, have you noticed any dramatic shifts in your mood?”

He could not help a slight flush of embarrassment again. “I’m afraid so -- I’ve found myself easily irritated or angered for no reason.”

“Ah,” Dura made a quick note on her datapad. “And secondly, you mentioned a crawling under your skin. Did you happen to notice the itch worsening when Centax-1 or Centax-2 was full?”

Obi-Wan shifted uncomfortably at the reminder. “Well, yes. I barely slept at all those nights.” 

She made another note. “And finally, on the occasions during which you do sleep, do you have any memory of what you’ve dreamed about?”

Obi-Wan stared at her. “That  _ is _ quite an irregular question!”

“Humor me, Master Kenobi.”

Obi-Wan gave up. “Often I dream of storms or high seas,” he confessed.

The healing Master pursed her lips and shut her eyes for a moment, quiet frustration evident in the set of her jaw. Then she smoothed her expression and looked back at Obi-Wan.

“Well, Master Kenobi,” she said. “It  _ is _ a kind of dehydration you’re suffering from. I can give you a blend of intravenous fluids that should lessen the symptoms for a while, but you’ll have to come back for more doses regularly. And of course, you’ll have to stay as hydrated as you can in the meantime. ASI, ATA!”

Two medical droids came over, but Obi-Wan was frowning up at the healer. “What aren’t you telling me, Master Dura?” he asked sharply.

Dura turned back to him. “I have said all I can, Master Kenobi,” she said sternly. “Unless you would have me break the order of the Council.”

Well,  _ kriff _ . Of course it would have to do with … that. “I will take the fault for the protocol breach,” he said wearily. “Tell me what you know or suspect.”

“It is not my place to contradict the Council,” said Dura. “But the symptoms I’ve been seeing, your own included … I can only surmise that your bodies are suffering for lack of contact with the Force.”

Obi-Wan rubbed his face. “You mean the elemental affinities, don’t you?” he groaned.

Master Dura shut her eyes again. “It’s worse for the children, Master Kenobi,” she said. “I don’t know how much longer any of us can take the strain, but the younglings suffer more.”

Obi-Wan could read the implied rebuke in her eyes. “I am truly sorry that so many are in pain, including our younglings,” he said truthfully. “But we’re choosing the lesser of two evils, and Master Yoda hopes that this difficult time will soon come to an end.”

“Then I hope Master Yoda is right,” said Dura grimly. “Now lie down if you want these fluids.”

And Obi-Wan obeyed.


	7. Chapter 7

Predictably, the Council ban on elemental pursuits was a general failure: as the weeks went by, the call of the elements persisted.

For some, especially the children, there were frequent outbursts: breathing or punching fire when they were upset; denting the concrete and shaking the floors; turning their showers to ice and flooding the garden pathways. The adults, most of whom were better at repression, sickened like Obi-Wan. The Healers had to start medicating people with cocktails that simultaneously dampened their powers and staved off the worst of the Force-deprivation, just to keep them functional. But no amount of medicine could stave off the dreams that plagued them: dreams of the ground shaking under the feet of giant beasts, of screaming airwhas and rough seas, of bright lantern birds singing under open skies, of suns and lightning and star-dragons.

The traditional Jedi manner of dealing with stress had always been to banish it into the Force, and now that they were all essentially forbidden to use the Force, tension began to bottle up inside them. Even the Councillors were not immune to the physical and psychological distress, and most were near the end of their rope: they knew, even if they couldn’t consciously admit it, that things could not go on this way forever.

Anakin, Ahsoka, Barriss, and Luminara found themselves thrust into something like a conspiracy, in full disobedience to the Council. Because they were all using (or trying to use) their elements regularly, the Force-withdrawal stress did not trouble them; but the feeling of being trapped was growing for all of them, and a foreboding settled on Anakin that nagged at the back of his mind by day and troubled his dreams at night.

Meanwhile, the next few weeks were going by uneasily for the rest of the Republic.

The Senate was becoming increasingly antsy. Representatives from Kamino, the Trade Federation, and the Banking Clan were openly resentful at how sharply the truce was cutting into their profits. Meanwhile, representatives from those planets who had been suffering the most damage during wartime (for example, Orn Free Taa, Onaconda Farr, and Padme) were very anxious to maintain and even extend the truce. The other senators varied in their attitudes -- a handful were outspoken bigots who chafed at being beholden to the enemy; a fair few would not call the Separatists ‘animals’ out loud but sympathized with the open bigots; and some others were just anxious to keep the fighting from reaching  _ their _ systems and planets.

The question of the status of the Jedi came up from time to time -- the Chancellor maintained that now was not the time to strip the Order of its rank and privileges, but Saam kept drilling home the point that it was not feasible to have a military dependent upon now-powerless Jedi.

The public at large was sifting through a number of ideas. They had, of course, any number of opinions about the Separatists, but for the most part they were none too hot on the Jedi either. Protests had begun picking up popularity even while the war was in action, and Disband-the-Jedi petitions began to pop up on the holonet.

The two Sith lords (former Sith Lords?) were making excellent progress in learning to wield fire. Unburdened as they were by the ideological hand-wringing that held back the Jedi, Sidious and Dooku were constantly testing the limits of their new abilities. For example, it didn’t take Sidious long to find out that the energy which ignited living fire could be split and then rejoined, thus giving him a far more deadly form of the old Sith powers of lightning.

After about a month of vigorously ‘training’ Dooku (mostly beating and burning him in ever more sophisticated fire duels), Sidious declared that Dooku was ready for the field again. And so it was that, after some four short months of an uneasy peace, Dooku knelt before his Master to ask him what was his bidding, and Sidious said, “Let us make an end of this folly of a truce, my Apprentice.”

* * *

“It is with a heavy heart that I must announce a Separatist attack on a Republic planet mere hours ago,” the Chancellor addressed the Senate.

Outraged, Padme leapt to her feet. “That can’t be true!” she cried. “It’s impossible!”

Around her, other Senators were also crying out -- “Just like those faithless animals!” “How long did we believe they would honor a truce?” “We should never have treated with them!”

Palpatine raised a hand for quiet. “Yes,” he said gravely. “I fear that our peaceful Alderaan has now become a battleground.”

Padme’s legs went out from under her, and she fell back into her chair.  _ Alderaan?! _ She snuck a glance at Bail; her old friend looked pale and haggard, and there were dark shadows under his eyes. Her mind raced -- had the attack damaged any cities? How many had been hurt or killed? Was Breha all right?

“It is clear that we now have no choice but to meet their attack with appropriate force,” said the Chancellor. “To strike at the heart of the Republic, at one of our most peaceful worlds -- we cannot allow this atrocity to go unpunished.”

Cheers and cries of agreement erupted from around the Senate, but Padme couldn’t speak. What had happened? Had Mina been overruled? Had some Separatist army official acted without leave? It would be just like Grievous, honestly.

“We must mobilize a regiment immediately --” began the Chancellor, but Saam interrupted.

“And how will we do that?” he bellowed. “Our military generals and commanders are currently out of commission, are they not? The fact that our military is beholden to the Jedi has rendered us vulnerable to an attack just like this!”

And just like that, in the midst of her worry for Bail, Padme saw two opportunities she just couldn’t pass up. She stood up again, and brought her pod forward. “In that case, I have a proposition,” she said firmly.

The other senators all paused and turned to look at her curiously. “Speak on, Senator Amidala,” said the Chancellor.

“If war is our only way forward, and if the Jedi can no longer command our armies,” she said. “Then it is plain that the Republic no longer has a reason to withhold military autonomy from our clone troops. Let our most able clone captains be raised to the ranks of commanders and generals, while creating a new special initiative that utilizes the tactical knowledge and experience the Jedi can still offer. If we do this quickly, we could be in a position to liberate Alderaan as soon as tomorrow.”

She bit back a smile of triumph as nods and murmurs of approval began to grow around her. She snuck another glance at Bail, who sent her a brief but grateful smile.

Of course, she knew from Anakin that the Jedi weren’t strictly “powerless,” but they certainly weren’t in a position to go back to being generals and commanders. Making them into special agents would allow them to retain something of their original position.

As to the clones themselves, what better way to push the Senate towards granting the clones full citizen’s rights than by granting them the opportunity to win themselves real renown? Burtoni was giving her the evil eye, but she couldn’t complain now without sounding unpatriotic -- there simply weren’t enough admirals and captains who  _ weren’t _ clones to command the entire Grand Army of the Republic.

“A most resourceful solution to our plight, Senator!” said Chancellor Palpatine approvingly. “I see no reason why we should not implement this change at once.”

“Then,” said a newly emboldened Padme. “I move that we simultaneously elevate the military status of the clone troops and create a special military initiative for members of the Jedi.” And she held her breath, hoping that fortune was with her today.

“And I second that motion,” came the voice of Mon Mothma, and Padme allowed herself a grateful smile at the other woman.

The Chancellor spread his hands. “All in favor, say ‘I,’” he said, and most of the room appeared to join in. “All opposed, by like sign,” said the Chancellor, and Padme couldn’t help but notice that Burtoni was among the naysayers.

“The motion has been passed,” said Palpatine, and Padme drew a long sigh of relief. “The administrative changes will be ratified immediately, and a battalion will be sent to Alderaan as soon as possible.”

The moment that the meeting was disbanded, Padme tried to catch Bail, but she was delayed in being congratulated by some half a dozen other senators, not to mention the Chancellor. She ended up going straight to Bail’s office.

“Oh,  _ Bail _ ,” she said as soon as she was inside. “I’m so terribly sorry — is Breha all right?”

Bail, who had been standing by the window, turned at the sound of her voice. “Breha’s unharmed, and so are most of our people,” he said, coming forward. “The Separatists have taken the palace, but appear to have done minimal damage.”

“Thank goodness!” breathed Padme, relieved. 

Bail inclined his head. “Padme, I want to thank you. I know you hate to resume the war, but your presence of mind today made the difference between help for my people and a month’s bickering in the Senate.”

“Well, I’m always glad to help,” said Padme truthfully.

* * *

“A most unexpected turn of events, this is,” said Yoda. “Yet grateful we are, that stand by us, the Senate has.”

He had called a quick emergency meeting in the wake of the Chancellor’s announcement of the attack on Alderaan and the Senate’s decision to reorganize the GAR.

For his part, Obi-Wan had mixed feelings. He was glad that the Republic had decided to ‘give the Jedi another chance’ in the form of a new role, but he was also very uncertain of what the future would hold.

“For that it seems we have Senator Amidala to thank,” said Mace. “It was she who put the motion on the floor.” He had never been altogether comfortable with how close Amidala was to the Order (and especially to the wild card that was Skywalker), but she had proved an extremely valuable ally in the Senate lately and he could hardly complain about it now.

“Then the Jedi are much indebted to Senator Amidala,” said Saesee Tiin. “But whom will we send to Alderaan?”

“From the 501st, the dispatched regiment was,” said Yoda gravely. “Send Skywalker and Tano, we will.”

“With respect, Master Yoda,” Obi-Wan broke in. “Is it truly the best idea to send Anakin on a mission this important and experimental?”

“For once, Kenobi, I think sending Skywalker’s a good idea,” said Mace. “He’s almost out of control being cooped up in here. The 501st was his brigade, and he’ll throw a fit if he can’t go with them. But since you’re concerned, you’ve just volunteered to go and keep an eye on him!”

Obi-Wan allowed himself a quiet groan. He’d walked right into that one.

* * *

“Now do remember, you two,” said an anxious-looking Obi-Wan two days later. “That this mission is something of a trial run for the new initiative. You’ll be making your report to both the Council and the Chancellor, so let’s try to be careful, shall we?”

Anakin smirked. “Aren’t I always careful, Master?”

Ahsoka cut him an “I-know-you-did-not-just-say-THAT” look, but frankly she was glad enough to be out of the Temple that she wasn’t feeling particularly cautious herself.

“Very well,” said Obi-Wan. “Let’s be going!”

Anakin grinned down at Ahsoka. “Ready for a new adventure, Snips?”

“You bet, Master!” chirped Ahsoka eagerly. “Let’s go!”

The trio walked onto the cruiser (well, Obi-Wan walked and Anakin and Ahsoka bounded) to join the crew, the regiment, and Senator Organa, who had apparently promised the Queen that he would come. Obi-Wan set about showing the Senator to a comfortable room, while Anakin and Ahsoka went straight to the bridge.

“Good morning, Admiral Yularen,” Anakin greeted the man.

“Agents Skywalker and Tano,” Yularen inclined his head. “Welcome aboard. Where is Agent Kenobi?”

“He’s on his way,” said Ahsoka reassuringly, and then, “Rex, Fives! Good to see you two again, finally,” as the two clones walked up to the bridge.

“Commander Tano, General Skywalker!” Rex immediately stood at attention.

Fives elbowed Rex sharply, Admiral Yularen cleared his throat, and Ahsoka felt suddenly awkward. “Actually, we’re not your commanding officers anymore,” she reminded both him and herself. “ _ General _ Rex.”

“Ah, right,” Rex looked supremely uncomfortable. “Apologies, Agent Tano.”

Thankfully, Obi-Wan broke the moment by coming up behind them. “Admiral, General, Commander,” he said smoothly. “Are we ready for takeoff?”

“That we are, sir,” said the Admiral, and the pilots began the process of maneuvering the cruiser out of the hangar.

All things considered, it was a  _ strange _ ride to Alderaan. Rex was awkward around the Jedi; he kept reverting to calling them ‘General’ and ‘Commander’ and seemed to be biting his tongue from asking them for orders. Fives was doing somewhat better, and seemed to be having an easier time adjusting to his own new position of Commander. The anticipated mission itself was pretty straightforward: liberate the planet from the droid armies, fly the Senator to the Palace. But Anakin and Ahsoka still had very little idea what constituted this new “special agent” role they were now supposed to play.

“Part of the objective of the mission is to find that out,” said Obi-Wan bluntly.

“I just hope it doesn’t mean they expect us to sit back while the clones have all the fun,” said Anakin, and Ahsoka heartily agreed.

“I’m sure you two will manage to find something exciting to do,” said Obi-Wan dryly.

Later, Anakin pulled Ahsoka aside. “You solid on that kata, Snips?” he asked.

“Sure thing, Master,” said Ahsoka, and she couldn’t help the thrill of anticipation that ran through her. “But are we going to use it if Master Kenobi is going to be looking over our shoulders?”

Anakin smirked. “Well, you heard the man,” he said. “We’re just going to have to improvise.”

* * *

General Grievous paced the floor of the throne room, where Queen Breha, her courtiers, and her aides were all being held at blasterpoint by droids. “Is that Republic cruiser in range or not?” he growled at the tactical droid.

“Not yet, General,” said the droid tonelessly.

“What’s taking them so long?” Grievous fussed. “It’s been three days already!”

* * *

Near the end of the hyperspace run, Rex called everyone in for a briefing. “As far as we know, the Separatist cruisers are parked on the planet’s surface. A droid army has infiltrated the palace, and is holding everyone inside, including the Queen, as hostages.”

“Wonderful,” groaned Anakin. “Got a plan, Rex?”

“Sure do, sir,” said Rex. “I think we need to split our forces: keep half the regiment up here, along with the Senator, while the rest of us head down to the surface to do what we can.”

“And where do you want us?” asked Anakin.

Rex hesitated, clearly uncomfortable again, and Fives took over. “Er, well,” he cleared his throat. “Begging your pardon, sir, it was our understanding that the Jedi aren’t currently in a position to do much besides tactical consulting.”

Obi-Wan looked thoughtfully at Anakin, and stroked his chin. “That’s not strictly true, Commander,” he said.

Ahsoka was suddenly nervous. What exactly did Obi-Wan know?

Anakin met Obi-Wan’s gaze warily. “We can still swing our lightsabers, if that’s what you mean,” he said guardedly.

“Oh, I was thinking of more … inflammatory methods,” said Obi-Wan significantly.

Ahsoka’s jaw dropped. “Isn’t that a little outside of protocol, Master Kenobi?” she asked.

Obi-Wan inclined his head. “I am simply suggesting that, if we find that more offensive measures would be useful in assisting the General’s forces, we should take them.”

Rex, Fives, and Yularen were exchanging puzzled looks. “Care to enlighten us, Agents?” asked the Admiral.

Anakin smiled suddenly, his eyes sliding over to Ahsoka’s. “Let’s just say that rumours of our new limitations have been exaggerated,” he said.

Fives’s eyebrows arched. “Enough that you’re ready for the front lines again?”

“Quite possibly,” said Anakin, still smiling. Ahsoka was practically pulsing with excitement.

“If that’s the case,” said Rex. “I want one of you Jedi up here with the cruiser, ready to escort the Senator down when the fighting’s over, and the other two on the ground with me. Agent Skywalker --?”

“You didn’t even have to ask, Rex,” said Anakin. “Snips?”

Ahsoka was beaming. “Sure thing, Master!”

But after the briefing, Anakin pulled Obi-Wan into a quiet corner. “What did you mean by all that?” he asked suspiciously. “Aren’t the element-based pursuits banned?”

Obi-Wan looked at him steadily. “They are currently banned  _ across all Temple grounds _ .”

Anakin’s jaw swung, and he decided that at some point he had to stop forgetting how fast and loose Obi-Wan sometimes played with the rules.

Obi-Wan shrugged. “Consider it,” he said. “I’m not blind, Anakin. I won’t pretend to know the details of what you and Ahsoka have been up to lately, but …” He sighed. “You two look so  _ well _ \-- radiant, even. I still have my doubts about what’s been happening in the Force, but whatever you’ve been doing with your element has agreed with you.”

Anakin couldn’t deny that. Meditating and experimenting with fire had been having a wonderful effect on his mind and body, and he knew Ahsoka had been enjoying similar benefits. “Sure has,” he admitted. “You should try it, Master.”

“Maybe,” said Obi-Wan noncommittally. “Regardless, if Rex and his men are to be successful in liberating Alderaan, they’re going to need you and Ahsoka to deal with Grievous.” He reached up and grasped Anakin’s shoulder. “May the Force be with you, Anakin.”

* * *

The Separatist blockade waiting for them above Alderaan was surprisingly flimsy: there was only one cruiser, and Anakin and Ahsoka blew through its droid fighters in barely more than an hour. It felt strange and unsettling, flying in a real-time battle without the heightened intuition they were used to, and both Jedi found themselves narrowly dodging droid-fighter blasts more than once, but they and their squadron made it through without major incident.

They made for the surface with the gunships behind them, peering down intently to see what was going on.

Ahsoka saw the enemy lines first. “The droids are lining up in front of the city,” she said. of battle-droids (standards, commandos, and supers). “Straightforward battle formation, nothing fancy.”

Anakin smirked. “And we thought this might be hard! General?”

Rex’s voice came over the speakers. “Fives, take your battalion out to the other side of the city; get in and take care of those clankers. Get to the palace if you can, and watch for hostage civvies.”

“Yes, sir!” barked Fives, and half the gunships broke away.

The ground before the city was flat for miles, so Rex had to land his own battalion amidst a rain of blaster fire from the droids. “Wedge formation!” he shouted as he jumped down from his gunship. “Skywalker, Tano, with me!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clone Rights in this house, bitches.


	8. Chapter 8

For a moment, Anakin felt suddenly very unprepared. He drew his lightsaber out of old habit and switched it on, and it was heavy and unfamiliar in his hands. As he leapt from the gunship and charged beside Rex, he felt the warmth of Alderaan's sun pour through him, filling him with _power, drive, aggression_.

And then it was as if the lightsaber came to life in his grasp; he felt the energy of the blade connect with the energy in his body, and in that moment, he would have sworn he felt the crystal inside sing to his spirit. The saber felt like an extension of himself in a way it never had before.

He turned his head to look past Rex to Ahsoka, who had likewise drawn her own lightsaber, and their eyes met for just a moment. Her face was alight with a combination of the familiar battle-fury and the radiance that always hung about her when she used fire.

They tore into the army, the droids falling before their lightsabers like dominoes. When a blaster bolt came too close to Rex's head, Anakin reacted on pure instinct. He bared his teeth, clenched his left fist, and swung it above his head. A long, narrow tongue of fire like a whip snapped out from his hand, catching the knot of droids just in front of him and slicing through them in a single stroke. The surrounding droids squawked in terror.

"What the _kriff_?" cried Rex from beside him.

"Surprise!" said Anakin as if he had known this would happen all along; but from then on he kept his lightsaber in his right hand while swinging the fire-whip with his left.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ahsoka jump, jets of fire shooting from her clenched fists, and _propel herself through the air_ until she landed atop one in a row of super-droids. She leapt from one to the next, slicing each one beneath her feet. Upon cutting down the last, she again leapt into the air and fire-propelled herself back down to join Rex and Anakin.

"Showoff," huffed Anakin, but he was grinning at her and fairly bursting with pride.

Ahsoka grinned right back at him. "Thanks, Skyguy!" she sassed before throwing herself at the droids in front of her.

Rex spared each of them a glance. "Could've warned a fellow," was all he said.

Anakin's fire-whip sang through the air, catching a line of blaster-bolts. "Gotta keep you on your toes somehow, General," he said with a mischievous grin.

It didn't take long for Anakin and Ahsoka to find a new variation of their old rhythm: he took the low fire by pressing directly forward, his lightsaber and fire-whip cutting a path for the men, while she took the high fire with flame-powered leaps and wide kicks. Behind and below them, Rex's men were pressing through the droid ranks in a wedge with far fewer casualties than usual even for Anakin.

It wasn't long before a tactical droid called a retreat, and the droid army began to move backwards into Aldera. Apparently Fives and his men hadn't managed to get to the palace yet, for Rex had to press the droids almost to its gates. Ahsoka and Anakin managed to take out the last few super-droids there, and Rex took a company inside the palace.

"Where to?" asked Anakin.

"Throne room!" barked Rex, pointing the way, and they charged through the halls, slicing and blasting their way through two droid groups along the way.

Then they burst through the doors into the throne room, and froze.

Queen Breha Organa was seated on her throne and the room was lined with courtiers and guards, all of whom were being held at blasterpoint by commando droids. Grievous was in the middle of the floor, and he stalked forward as soon as he saw them.

"Oh, there you are, General," said Ahsoka breezily. "I was afraid you'd be a no-show today."

"Ah, Skywalker and his little brat!" growled Grievous, drawing a lightsaber with each of his four arms and igniting them. "Let us see what new tricks you Jedi have come up with. Clear out the civilians!"

The droids immediately began dragging the Alderaanians toward the doors, forcing the clones to chase them down. Rex hesitated, but Anakin said, "We'll be fine!" so Rex bounded after the droid manhandling the Queen.

Meanwhile, Anakin snapped his left wrist, and a long fire-whip swept through the air. Ahsoka leapt high into the air, sailing over Grievous' head. Grievous skated aside to avoid the fire-whip. "That is new," he remarked.

"You like it?" Anakin sassed.

And then, almost before he had even thought about what he was doing, the fire-whip sailed under Grievous' arms and wrapped around what passed for his chest, catching just under the edges of the front plates. Something under the plates caught fire, and Grievous gave a great howl. He dropped two of the lightsabers he was holding, and clutched at his chest.

Seeing their advantage, Anakin and Ahsoka each knocked a lightsaber from one of Grievous' remaining hands. Anakin tugged Grievous closer by the fire-whip, which turned out to be a mistake because Grievous immediately tried to choke him with his now-empty hands. Ahsoka threw two more fire-blasts into Grievous' back, and Grievous began to convulse. Then, with a metallic screech, he collapsed, pulling Anakin down with him, and suddenly there was _fire in his eyes, too much heat, can't breathe_ -

"Master!" he heard Ahsoka shout from somewhere above him, and he dimly realized his face was now very close to Grievous' flaming … organs? Was that a heart and two lungs?

Then the convulsions ceased, and the claws at Anakin's shoulders loosened. Another set of hands was tugging at him, pulling him backward and up onto his knees. The sudden cool air made his eyes smart and water, and he coughed, blinking.

"Master!" Ahsoka's face was blurry. "How do you feel?"

"M'fine, Snips," he forced out, finding his throat dry and rough and his face stiff and uncooperative. His eyes wouldn't stop watering, and now the pain was beginning to register.

"Fives, thank the Force!" he heard her say. "We need a medic, Agent Skywalker's face is burned and I don't know how bad it is."

Anakin's face hurt like hell, and he could barely move his lips. His eyes had fallen shut and his head felt heavy - no, his entire _body_ felt heavy.

"It's pretty bad, but he'll be all right with some bacta," said Kix's voice unexpectedly close to his ears. "Keep him sitting up, and get him out of this chest plate."

"Stay with me, Master," said Ahsoka, and her voice quavered.

Their training bond was different now, much more ambiguous now that the Force had shifted, but he managed to find the edges of it and send her a pulse of humor. The groan she gave in response was worth the resulting exhaustion.

* * *

"I wish I could say I was surprised," sighed Obi-Wan.

He and Ahsoka were standing over a sleeping Anakin in the palace medbay. The single Separatist star destroyer had vanished into hyperspace once a panicked droid had announced that Grievous was dead, and Obi-Wan had lost no time in bringing Senator Organa (apparently Viceroy Organa on Alderaan) down to the city. Queen Breha had insisted that the Jedi stay a while for Anakin to be treated, in thanks for having killed Grievous. Kix had made Rex accept, insisting that Anakin shouldn't be moved too far at least for today.

(That was another new feature of the new army. Decisions like these fell to Rex now, not Obi-Wan or Ahsoka.)

Anakin's burns had only reached the second layer of his skin; his eyes had suffered no lasting damage, though his throat was inflamed from breathing smoke and his eyebrows were completely singed off. The bacta-mask was already in place.

"At least it wasn't our fault this time," said Ahsoka.

Obi-Wan arched his eyebrows at her. "I don't imagine the Council will agree."

Ahsoka frowned up at him. "What do you mean?" she asked suspiciously.

Obi-Wan frowned back down at her, folding his arms. "I'm sure you're aware that the Council is likely to take rather a dim view of the … methods you two have used today."

Ahsoka's jaw dropped. "Master Kenobi -!"

"And given the state of Anakin's face at the moment, I'm not sure I disagree with them," Obi-Wan's frown deepened almost to a scowl.

But Ahsoka, seeing how worried he was, took pity on him. "Master Kenobi," she said. "Anakin's going to be fine. He'll probably be giving our report tomorrow!"

"Indeed," said Obi-Wan with another sigh. "That's sure to be fun."

* * *

Anakin opened his eyes, and found himself in a lush green meadow. "Huh?" he muttered, sitting up.

"Ah, there you are, young Anakin!" came a strange voice, and Anakin looked up sharply to see a tall man in a simple red-and-black robe standing over him. The top half of his long dark hair was drawn up in an elegant topknot, and his deep dark eyes were full of the wisdom of many long years.

"Who are you?" asked Anakin, but something inside him felt as if he already recognized the man; there was a radiance about him that was not unlike the radiance he'd come to notice around Ahsoka.

"I am Roku," said the man. "And I will be your guide as you come into your element."

A fierce longing rose up in Anakin's heart. "You can teach me about fire?" he asked eagerly.

"I can teach you that, and more besides," smiled Roku; his eyes wrinkled at the corners when he smiled, and the feeling of meeting an old friend increased. "It is time for you to begin to learn what you are, young Anakin."

Anakin blinked. "I don't understand."

Roku's smile deepened. "You can begin to understand by consulting your old teacher, Obi-Wan," he said. "He has knowledge of the Avatar that can help you and your people. But you and I will soon meet again, young Anakin."

His face began to swim before Anakin's sight, and even as Anakin opened his mouth to call out in protest, darkness swallowed him.

* * *

"What news, my Apprentice?" asked Sidious.

"It is even as you have predicted, my Lord," said Dooku, bowing. "It would seem that the Jedi draw power from the same new source that we have discovered."

"Excellent!" said Sidious approvingly. "Convene the Separatist Council: it is time for the war to resume in earnest!"

Dooku raised a finger. "A thought has occurred to me, my Lord."

"Oh?"

"There is a certain Senator whose presence is becoming a nuisance, and whose absence would make the rest of the Separatist Parliament especially likely to cooperate."

"Then by all means, make her vanish," said Sidious with a cunning smile.

* * *

"Master?"

That gentleman looked up from his datapad to see Anakin in the doorway of his quarters. They were on their way back to Coruscant after staying a day in Aldera, as the Council had wanted to hear Anakin and Ahsoka's report in person back at the Temple. Anakin still looked somewhat alarming, with uneven blotches on his face, no eyebrows, and half the ends of his hair gone, but he had looked so much worse the day before that hardly anyone on board even gave him a second look now.

"Yes, Anakin?" he said.

He thought Anakin looked at him a little oddly. "Do you know anything about … an _Avatar_?"

Obi-Wan froze. Unfamiliar as the word was on Anakin's lips, he recognized it all too clearly. "W-why do you ask?" he hedged.

"I had a dream, or maybe a vision -" began Anakin.

Obi-Wan tried to give him a reassuring smile. "Anakin, we've talked about dreams -"

"No, Obi-Wan, listen!" said Anakin impatiently. "This is different."

Obi-Wan blinked. Anakin did not often address him by name. "Tell me about it, then."

Anakin plunged into an account of a dream unlike anything that Obi-Wan had ever heard of before. It wasn't the kind of precognitive (or occasionally retrocognitive) dreams or visions or special powers normal for many Jedi (at least before the Force had decided to play tricks on them). Anakin's dream sounded for all the world like an encounter with a spirit guide, the kind of superstition that civilians had about the Jedi all the time.

It frankly terrified Obi-Wan, not that he cared to show it. Anakin's 'spirit guide' knew that _he_ knew something about the new ways of the Force - what was he to make of that?

"Master, _please_ \- I need you to tell me anything you know," Anakin finished.

"But the Council -" began Obi-Wan, but seeing Anakin's eyes flash and his forehead wrinkle (that would have almost certainly been a frown had there been eyebrows), he gave it up. "Very well," he sighed heavily, feeling cornered. "But be aware that this is knowledge the Council does _not_ want repeated! Now it happened that I was tasked with reading a holocron back when we could still open them …"

* * *

Mina Bonteri was just finishing a quiet lunch with her son in their seaside house when her datapad chimed. She frowned, and checked the readout.

"What is it?" asked Lux.

"We've been recalled to Raxus," said Mina, rising. "Count Dooku's requested that the Council convene immediately."

Lux frowned. "Did he say why?"

"No, only that it's urgent," said Mina, rising. "The meeting is two cycles from now, and you know it takes a cycle at least to get there."

"All right, then," sighed Lux, for he had enjoyed the visit to Onderon. Nonetheless, a summons from Dooku was a summons from Dooku, so they both went to get packed. Mina entered her suite, and got a terrible shock: a woman wrapped in a dark cloak (but with her hood down) was standing in the middle of the room, speaking animatedly to Thecla, Mina's aide.

"Padme?!" cried Mina. "What in the galaxy -"

"Where's Lux?" asked Padme, looking around. Thecla was sputtering anxiously: "I'm so sorry, Mina, I just came in and she was here, I don't know how she got past me -"

"That's quite all right Thecla," said Mina reassuringly. "I'm sure my old protege would not appear unannounced in my home unless for a very good reason - which is what, exactly?" This to Padme, who was looking impatient.

"Is your son still with you, Mina? It's very important," said Padme.

"Of course he is!" said Mina. "He's preparing to leave, as am I -"

"If you're being summoned to meet with the Separatist Council, don't go! You and Lux have to get away from Onderon _now!_ "

Thecla froze, her eyes darting back and forth between the two senators. Mina's eyebrows arched, her trepidation mounting at the sight of the younger woman's anxious face. "Padme, what's wrong?"

Padme looked grim. "You and Lux are in danger, possibly for your lives," she said. "You need to get off-world as soon as possible - whatever you do, _don't answer the summons_."

Mina surveyed her. "Very well," she said, gesturing to Thecla. "Let me change into something a little less eye-catching, and we'll find Lux."

Lux was a little more skeptical of Pamde's claim of immediate danger.

"But why would we be in trouble?" he asked, though in lowered tones. "Isn't there a cease-fire in effect?"

"That's just it, there isn't anymore," said Padme worriedly. "General Grievous has just invaded Alderaan with a regiment of droids."

"What?!" Mina was incredulous. "That's impossible!"

"So the Senate didn't convene on this," Padme surmised, looking from one to the other of them. "I didn't think so, but now I know."

"But only the Senate can deploy the army!" Lux protested. "There's no way -"

"Unless the Head of the Senate gave the order," Mina frowned. "In which case, he would need to reckon with the Peace Faction …" her voice trailed off as her blood ran cold.

"Indeed," said Padme significantly.

Lux's eyes widened as he caught up. "But he wouldn't - would he?"

And Mina made up her mind. "I don't intend to find out," she said. "Let's get out of here as soon as we can - I assume you came in an unmarked ship, Padme?"

Padme nodded briskly. "We'd best travel in that."

* * *

Anakin, Ahsoka, and Obi-Wan stood in the Chancellor's office, where that official gentleman sat at his desk. Yoda, Mace, and Plo were also seated, waiting for the report.

"I'm afraid there's not much to tell about the actual mission, Master Yoda," said Anakin in response to the Grandmaster's query. He briefly recounted what had happened on the ground, including the death of Grievous (the part of the story that the galaxy at large already knew).

Mace held up a hand. "We'll come back to Grievous," he said. "For now, our primary interest is in the new consulting initiative. Skywalker, if you wouldn't mind explaining in detail what role you and your Padawan ended up serving while you were there."

Moment of truth. Anakin steeled his resolve. "Ahsoka and I provided General Rex some offensive cover on-ground," he said.

"What kind of cover?" asked Mace, peering closely at Anakin.

Without a word, Anakin turned on the holoprojector. Plo straightened when he saw the scraps of footage of Anakin and Ahsoka fighting Grievous with bursts of fire in the throne room; Mace's mouth tightened, and Yoda was unreadable as ever.

The Chancellor, however, was understandably impressed. "My goodness!" he marveled. "I could not have imagined anything like this! I was under the impression that the Jedi no longer had access to the Force, yet here I see nothing if not extraordinary power."

But instead of answering the implied question, Yoda turned his eye upon Anakin. "Forbidden from such arts, the Jedi are, young Skywalker," he chided. "Know this, you did, and yet practice them, you have."

"Yes, Master Yoda," said Anakin, stuffing down the well of resentment that rose up inside him. He'd known this was coming - he'd _known_.

"So you deliberately disregarded the ban," said Mace, and his voice held a note of warning.

"We took advantage of an ability we thought would help General Rex win the battle," Ahsoka broke in, unable to keep silent any longer. "Not to mention finishing Grievous!"

"And so it did, in both cases to spectacular effect," said Plo.

"Quiet, Snips," muttered Anakin hastily in her direction. There was no reason for her to dig their hole any deeper.

But Mace turned to Obi-Wan. "Did you know anything about this, Kenobi?" he asked.

Obi-Wan blinked at him. "If you recall, I was not on the ground, Master Windu," he said.

Anakin sighed inwardly. Of _course_ Obi-Wan would try to play the 'plausible deniability' card.

"Yet you were aware that Skywalker and Tano were headed to the ground with Rex to participate actively in battle," said Mace.

"So I was," said Obi-Wan steadily.

Mace narrowed his eyes at Obi-Wan, clearly unwilling to say all that was on his mind in mixed company.

Said mixed company interjected. "Masters, all," said the Chancellor. "I should have thought that our victory on Alderaan, to say nothing of the defeat of General Grievous, should be an occasion of praise and rejoicing for the Jedi. I do not pretend to know anything of the Force, but surely if such a display of power as I have just seen proves useful in battle, is it not in the best interests of the Jedi to make use of it?"

For the briefest moment, a flutter of something caught the edges of Anakin's awareness - a spark of something he vaguely felt he should recognize. But it passed before he could properly sense it.

"To answer power with power, the Jedi way is not, Chancellor," said Yoda solidly. "A victory for Alderaan, and for the Republic, perhaps has been won. But for the Jedi, a defeat has been suffered."

Anakin fought to keep his expression neutral, and dared not look at Ahsoka. It was at times like this that he really did believe that Yoda didn't always listen to himself when he spoke.

The Chancellor's eyebrows arched. "I doubt that Queen Organa or our esteemed Senator would see things from that point of view, Master Yoda," he said. "In fact, from my point of view, the experiment has been a resounding success, and is certainly a major step toward winning the war!"

Anakin shot the older man a grateful look, and for an instant, made eye contact. Again, something stirred at the back of his awareness, distracting him for the moment from the Council being themselves.

"Nevertheless, the Council has concerns," said Mace, and he eyed Anakin again.

"Then what shall I tell the Senate?" asked the Chancellor practically. "Does the Council accept the new initiative and its inherent privileges, or not?"

The three senior Council members exchanged glances. Then Yoda turned back to the Chancellor. "The Senate's offer, we accept, Chancellor," he said. "In private, the Jedi will continue our discussion. To the Council chamber, we will go."

Anakin ground his teeth. It was _he and Ahsoka_ who had given the Chancellor his success, and _they_ were the reason the Jedi could even take the new position at all!

But on their way out to the speeders, Plo made a point of coming over to lay a hand each on Anakin and Ahsoka's shoulders. "Well done, you two," he said, and walked off to join the other two Councillors leaving Anakin slack-jawed and Ahsoka smiling.

* * *

Unfortunately, the confrontation in the circular Council chamber was not nearly so pleasant.

"Skywalker, you knew that dabbling in the elemental arts was forbidden," Ki-Adi scolded.

"Yet did his new powers not assist in the liberation of Alderaan and defeat of General Grievous?" asked an alarmingly serious Kit, gesturing toward Anakin who was standing with Ahsoka in the middle of the floor.

"Have a care that the loss of your former Padawan to the late General does not cloud your judgment in this matter, Master Fisto," said Rancisis sternly.

Anakin blinked. He'd heard, vaguely, that Vebb had fallen in battle just after being Knighted. He had _not_ heard that Vebb had died fighting Grievous, and he had momentarily forgotten that Kit Fisto had indeed been Vebb's Master. He dared a glance in Kit's direction; the Nautolan's naturally round blue eyes were narrowed and blazing, and his typically smiling mouth was pressed into a hard line.

"This Council forbade the practice of such heretical acts for a reason," Rancisis went on. "We cannot, in our moment of vulnerability, risk contamination from the Dark Side!"

"And yet, behold the life-force that emanates from them," rumbled Plo. "Behold the brightness of their eyes, the radiance that lingers around them. Do they seem Darkened to any of you?"

"I saw the way they attacked, on the battlefield and in the throne room," said Mace. "They were overtaken by power and aggression - both of them! Lust for power is not our way!"

"Master Windu, 'our way' is lost!" cried Obi-Wan. Anakin almost jumped, for he had _never_ heard his old Master speak so adamantly against another Councillor.

Mace pointed an accusatory finger at Obi-Wan. "So you _did_ approve Skywalker's actions!"

"Is that the _point_ , Master Windu?" cried Obi-Wan incredulously.

Saesee Tiin was equally incredulous. "The Council must be of one accord! For shame, Kenobi - or do you think we have forgotten that, among the members of this Council, it was _you_ who confessed to tampering with an elemental affinity yourself?"

Anakin's jaw dropped, and he swung around to stare at his old Master. _Obi-Wan_ had been messing around with one of the elements too?! Of all the _lying, hypocritical_ -

"What exactly are you suggesting, Master Tiin?" demanded Obi-Wan, his eyes narrowing.

"Only that your own commitment to the decision of the Council is in question," said Tiin.

Then, for the first time since the beginning of the meeting, Yoda spoke. "The truth now, Master Obi-Wan," he said in a voice that filled the room. "Sanction Skywalker and Tano's insubordination, did you, or did you not?"

Anakin felt as if he had entered the Twilight Realm. How was this now about _Obi-Wan_?

Obi-Wan met Yoda's eyes steadily. "I did," he said, and the rest of the Council immediately descended into _chaos_. Yoda rapped with his staff for silence, and spoke again.

"Why?" he asked simply.

Obi-Wan sat up straighter. "Because I didn't know what was waiting for them on the ground at Alderaan," he said, his voice louder and clearer. "Because I thought they would need the help of the Force to battle Grievous. I made the best call I could with the information I had."

There was a long moment of complete silence.

When Yoda spoke again, his voice was oddly flat. "Compromised us, you have, Master Obi-Wan," he said. "If under different circumstances this had happened, expelled from this Council, you would be. As matters stand, heroes in the eyes of the Republic, all three of you are. To lose any of you, we cannot afford. Therefore, remain in the Order, you will, and retain your military standing, you must. But in the eyes of this Council, under reproach, you all are. Dismissed, you two may be," pointing with his stick at Anakin and Ahsoka.

Glad enough to go, they hurried from the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here's the first one I didn't have written out ahead of time, hence why it took so (relatively) long to upload. Hope it's worth the wait!
> 
> Also, hey, here's a character from Avatar: The Last Airbender already! Already breaking rules I set. We'll see more of Roku as time goes on. Btw visually, this is a youngish, recently-realized-Avatar Roku, not the white-haired wizard we saw for most of ATLA :)
> 
> I burned Anakin's face! Sorry, Ani :) At least you got to kill Grievous! In other news, Elvella is Generally Bad at Battles and Medical Stuff. I don't know how much bacta is supposed to speed up normal healing processes, so Anakin's gonna look a little scary for a minute :)


End file.
